Two Sides
by charley.vandra
Summary: Carmen transfers to NCIS to specifically work underneath Gibbs. Not for the man, himself, but for the man's intellect and gut instincts that will get the answers she needs. She is willing to use any strategy necessary to manipulate and lie, even commit treason for her personal gains. Will she be able to prevail or will Gibbs do everything in his power to stop her. OC/Gibbs.
1. Coffee and Blood

*********THIS STORY IS UNDER A MUCH NEEDED EDIT*********

**Summary: **Carmen Wilson transfers to NCIS, specially to work with Gibbs team, however having the whole new employment planned behind his back, he is extremely pissed about the arrangement and treats her poorly in return. But Carmen needs to be on this team. This team of whom, for the past year has been handling a particular and special serial killer to Carmen, will help lead her right to the answers she is searching for entire life; the missing key to her family demise. Carmen is willing to use any tactics and methods to get what she needs, even treason.

**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fanfiction using the realm and its characters of NCIS, which is owned by CBS. I claimed nothing but my original characters.

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The elevator jolted, coming to a stop on the floor of her new employment with _ding_! _Possible_ new employment, she corrected herself. Waiting for the doors to open, Carmen curled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down. It helped calmed her nerves; a 'tell' easily read and a habit she can't break.

This wasn't her first assignment as an agent. Although it was the first with _him_—him being the obstacle that stood between her and her _possible new employment _at NCIS. Carmen had heard all about Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, of that he was a very difficult man to work with and easily became frustrated with what concerning seniority and conducting proper protocol procedure; that he often bent the rules by surpassing paperwork altogether; and of that his most infamous teaching tactic of slapping the back of his employees head's when unsatisfied with their performance. She was _very_ aware of the man.

Although, despite her extensive knowledge of Agent Gibbs, it was not one hundred percent certainty she would be working underneath the man; however Director Vance's assurance upon the matter eased her anxiety and set forth some confident of employment. But nevertheless, the final decision was in the hands of Special Agent Gibbs, and assuming from prior proceedings with the man, with heavy considerations of his unwillingness and stubborn temperament, employment was unlikely.

But Carmen _needed _to work underneath the man. Failure was not an option.

And fate was seemingly impatient and decided that she was going to meet to the man in a much more impressive manner. Before she could even step onto the carpet of the floor, Carmen walked right into the lion's fury.

Carmen Wilson stepped out of the elevator once the doors slid open and collided into a man, of whom was entering the elevator as she was exiting. She accidentally bumped him into the elevator door, of which caused the man to spill the steaming hot coffee he had held in his hand—now down his chest.

_Oh, shit_, she thought as she peered up at the man and instantly recognized the man to be _him_—Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs—eyes blazing with rage, temper flaring _at her_.

The man cursed under his breath, vigorously wiping off the burning coffee as it trickled down his chest. He looked down at his soaked stained shirt, his teeth soundly gritting together as his anger became to surface. Carmen could only assume, as she silently stood watching the man's skin turn red, that her _possible _new employment was now squandered into simply impossible.

"I am so sorry!" Carmen apologized with widened eyes, staring at the man's wet shirt and solely wishing she was invisible. "I didn't see you coming off . . . the . . . lift—"

She cut her sentence off as an extremely annoyed look etched across the man's face, adequately frightening her into submission and successfully making her feel like a bumbling idiot. _Perfect. _

The man, after suffering from sufficient coffee burns and realizing there was blame to be issued, shifted his furious gaze upon the instigator, his eyes perfectly still apart from the flame-lit glint in his eye, appearing as though he had a serious considered for strangulation. He glanced at the empty cup in his hand, finding it empty of his precious coffee, then moved his gaze back onto her.

What was that phrase? Never separate a coffee addict from their coffee. Fear suddenly engulfed her body. _You're fucked, _she mused.

"Boss!" a younger man suddenly hollered from beyond them, running up and stopped beside his apparent 'boss,' and of who was being trailed by a woman, both sporting bags on their shoulders. The new man was about to begin speaking again, then, seeing the status of his boss' shirt, stopped short. He then glanced at Carmen, of who sported her own bag of fear, then turned back to his boss, of whose face was as red as a fire hydrant, then back to Carmen again, becoming seemingly aware and conscious of what had transpired.

However Special Agent Gibbs didn't vocally reprehend her—as she excepted. And sensing the conversation terminated, Carmen stepped off the elevator promptly as he stepped on. The younger man and woman followed him, coming to a halt behind him.

"We can get you a knew one, boss. No problem," the younger man said, thankfully, trying to divert a disaster. He side glanced to Carmen, of who was standing outside the door, staring wide-eyed at the trio—specially the man shooting darts at her, and lightly shook his head, as if to send the message: 'Abort! Abort! Get out while you still can!'

"Sorry, again," Carmen murmured weakly to the man before the door shut in her face. She cursed under her breath, but more soundly loud this time. _Idiot!_

"Carmen?"

The sound of her name from somewhere beyond her reception startled her. She jolted around to find the director of NCIS smirking at her. _Oh, he just witnessed that!? _she sulked.

"I hope I didn't startle you," he said, and offered his hand. Carmen forced an unease smile, and shook his hand. "I don't want to scare you off on the first day. . . . " He stopped and half smirked. "Just wait until you meet Gibbs. . . . I'm Director Vance; welcome to NCIS."

He smiled again and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently and directing her forward and up the stairs to his office. Carmen forced another awkward smile. "Thank you, director."

_But I'm sorry to disappoint: I've already met Gibbs and spilled coffee down his chest._

The director released her hand and lead her to his office up the stairs. He held the door open for her, and hastily closed it once she stepped inside. She nudged her way towards his desk and sat down in the chair he gestured. He picked up a cream vanilla folder containing her records and reports, briefly filtering through it before taking his seat.

Carmen silently seated herself, awaiting patiently for the director inquiry to begin even though she knew she had a fleeting chance for the position, after what of the coffee incident. While the director silently re-familiarize himself with her file again, Carmen was inwardly screaming at herself at an opportunity squandered.

"What made you want to transfer to NCIS?" The director suddenly said, forcing Carmen of her train-wreck-of-thought. She flickered her eyes from the floor to meet his waiting person.

"I have heard many good things about this team. Good position. Good salary . . . well manageable salary."

Director Vance chuckled light-heartily at her jab at NCIS for a moment before he suddenly became serious again.

"What is the _real _reason?"

Carmen slightly flushed, but remained collected. "What makes you think there is another reason?"

"With fifteen years of experience under my belt," he began, his voice dripping with pride. "I think I can tell when anyone is lying."

Carmen forced another smile, glanced down at her feet, then met the director's glistening brown orbs of triumph. She licked her lips, then nonchalantly shrugged her shoulder.

"I suppose I just need a change in scenery—to get away—from a certain person."

Carmen was hopeful he'd just drop it if she indicated some sort of traumatic reasoning such as a ugly breakup (of which was a lie)—scratching the sympathetic itch in his body, of which would hopefully halt his further questioning of her true reason for transferring to NCIS. And to her relief, it did.

The director simply nodded his head and continued with the interview.

An hour later the interview was finally concluded. The director had asked her many questions, answering all of them with caution and precision, but after a while, she slipped into an easy rhythm and answered with out hesitation.

"We are _all _thrilled to have you here on _our _team," Director Vance assured her with an easy smile, but she caught a particular uneasy glint in his eye that contradicted his assurance.

"Whose team?" A sudden, very distinct growl inquired behind her, promptly causing her heart to skip a beat. It was _him._

Carmen didn't turn to the new presence in the room, but continued to keep her sights set on the director, of whose faces dropped its cheery demeanor into a deep frown and of which slightly set forth a heavy fear in her chest again. _Fuck. _

"Gibbs," sang the director, somehow compelling a smile across his face. "I'm was just debriefing our newest member."

"Whose team? Vance!" Agent Gibbs repeated, his voice shrilling into a temper. A hot flash surged through Carmen's body as Gibbs stepped into her peripherals. He continued to the director's desk, neither acknowledging her presence in the room nor even sparing her glance sideward.

"Your team Gibbs," Vance replied coolly, well aware of the implications of his response—of the anger it'd fuel.

"Like the hell she is!" Gibbs spat and, finally sparing her a thought, glanced at this 'so-called' newest team member, of who happened to look at the same time and met her eyes. Theirs eyes connected only briefly before she ripped hers away.

She can feel that all too familiar impulse she felt when nerves claimed her body and desired to abed her fears. She can't control herself, and curled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down. _'Tell' told, _she cringed as she still felt the hot gaze of the lion beside her.

"You!" He growled coming to recognizes her. "What is she doing here?"

He had turned back to Vance, ignoring her again, and shooting his death glares at the man behind the desk, now standing. Carmen had this unrelentingly feeling of an heavy anchor on her heart she probably mistook as anxiety when actually it was a becoming hatred for Gibbs. _What a rude son-of-a-bitch_, she thought and glanced at him, first noticing the dried stain on his shirt, then the shade of red he was turning.

"This better not be what I think it is Vance!"

Director Vance rolled his eyes, containing no desire to hear him complain, then eyed his stained shirt, and said, reflecting the conversation to away from him:

"What happen to your shirt?"

"Why don't you ask you her," Gibbs said flatly. Both mens' eyes shifted to the Carmen sitting in the chair across from them. She stared back at them as coolly as possible. Vance visibly made the connect between her behavior from earlier and his stained shirt, and sighed. It was not good that she had already a spot on his bad side, and her first day of work hadn't even began.

"Carmen Wilson, met your new boss, Special Agent Gibbs."

Carmen's brows raised, surprised with the director's lack of surrender, and met his gaze. It was clearly evident Agent Gibbs had no interest for her to join his team, and wondered why this was going to happen—or so she thought.

"Absolutely not!" Gibbs said, his voice rising with every syllable. "She is not joining my team."

The director, having had quite enough tongue for one sessions, clamped down on his jaw. "I am the Director of NCIS. I say what goes! Not you Gibbs."

Carmen felt she had entangled herself in a web of fury that had been going on between them the two men for some time. The director was standing up for her, but Gibbs apparently couldn't care less. He had a good functioning team? Why would he need another agent? But although the director's status is of higher rank and stature than Gibbs, Carmen for some reason had a respect for him that Director Vance couldn't touch. Perhaps it was all the hours of studying Gibbs that influenced her liking towards him. It puzzled her as Gibbs remained adamant.

The room fell silent, both men staring intensely at the other. Carmen waited for one of them to speak, but neither did. Gibbs was about to turn around and walk out, but the director spoke before he could.

"Carmen is an overly qualified agent and has much experience in the field."

Gibbs scuffled when hearing she had much experience in the field. The director stopped, waiting for him to reply. It seemed this new information began to sway the cold man's decision for some reason. It surprised her considerately to hear the man's next words.

"If you are going to be on my team, you'll dam well have to earn your spot and earn my trust. Don't ever, step out of line with me."

Carmen almost felt unwilling. Both men stared at her, waiting for her to say 'thank you for the job', or 'I won't let you down' or 'you can count on me,' but she knew she'd only be fooling herself and making an ass out of herself. She simply extended her gratitude with a nod and forced smile. It began silent again, and feeling the tension mount, she bit her bottom lip again. She glanced to Agent Gibbs and noticed his gaze shifted to her lips, studying it. She instantly stop biting her bottom lip and turned away from him. She could still feel his eyes on her, watching her, but before he could go any deeper they were interrupted.

The younger man of who was in the elevator had ran into the office. Carmen, Agent Gibbs, and Director Vance turned their gazes to the new presence upon hearing a few knocks. The man stopped at the sight of Carmen, then his gaze shifted to Gibb's stained shirt.

"Geez, boss. It was just an accident."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said impatiently, becoming instantly frustrated with the man's misinterpretation of the situation. _Besides, _Gibbs thought, _I'd do a lot more to this Carmen Wilson for what he did to me. _

"Right boss—we got him. I mean we don't have him _yet_. Witnesses matched his description and phoned him in. He's on the run—"

Gibbs didn't even so much as let another breath escape his lips before running the door. Carmen, after having watched the two men flee, turned back to the director, going to ask him what was the next step that was required of her then, but she was interrupted.

"Wilson!"

Gibbs' voice rang through the air, and Carmen quickly stood from her chair, thanked the director, and sped after the two men.

"Good luck," he hollered after her. _You're literally going to need it. _

Agent Gibbs rushed to his desk, grabbed his jacket and slung a back bag over his shoulder and was moving to the elevator before Carmen could make into the space of their desks.

"Ziva, Tony, with me. McGee stay here. Wilson you too!"

Carmen didn't even get as so much as word out before the elevator doors shut. She halted in her tracks, and signed. _What now? _she thought and turned around, becoming slightly startle as she met a man lurking behind her.

"Hi?" the man said with an uncertain voice.

"Hi," Carmen repeated back, uncertainty in her voice, too. "I'm—"

"She's your new team member," someone answered for her. Carmen and the new man turned around and found Director Vance leaning over the railing the balcony. "Why don't you show her around. Let her meet the rest of the team."

"Oh," the man said, his brows furrowing in confusion, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared with a shrug. "Well I'm McGee. You can call me Tim." He offered his hand, and Carmen gladly accepted as she heard the genuine tone in his voice. She smiled widely, finally feeling comfortable again. "You know, I wasn't aware we were going to have a new member—" he paused, watching her smile fade. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing, of course, but Gibbs . . . He doesn't really want me here."

McGee chuckled a little at her. Carmen didn't take offense as she assumed this Agent McGee had prior occurrences like this, and it peaked her curiosity.

"What?"

"That's Gibbs for you. He doesn't like meeting new people. And he just has to warm up to you. Don't worry about it. Just give it a few weeks . . . Or maybe a few mouths." Carmen smiled a little. "Here, lets me introduce you to Abby and Ducky."

McGee motioned for the elevators across the room. Carmen, feeling ease seep into her body, relaxed and followed the nice man, Agent McGee.

"Who's Abby?" Carmen asked when McGee pressed the button, waiting for the elevator.

"Abby is Gibbs' favorite. And will always be," he said, then continued. "Abby is into Goth, coffins and is our department's best lab tech. She likes Caf Pow, and . . . " He paused and stepped into the elevator. " . . . is always in a good mood." McGee, unbeknownst to him, was smiling brightly. Carmen looked at him curiously, then watched him look over her own smile and realized it was in reflection of his and stopped smiling.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything." Carmen said trying her hardest not to smile.

"You didn't have to. Your expression gave it away."

"Your affectionate towards Abby, aren't you?" Carmen asked but was pretty sure of the answer already.

"Well, I mean Abby and I did go out, but were just friends now." McGee stopped when the elevators doors opened. Even if he had continued, Carmen wouldn't had been able to hear him. Loud music suddenly filled the entire floor, including the hallway elevator, and only grew louder as Agent McGee lead her into a the science lab.

"ABBY!" Agent McGee yelled at the woman looking at the computer screen, swaying to the music. She didn't hear him. "She also likes loud music," he told her walking closer to Abby.

"ABBY!"

The woman finally spin around, startled, but once she saw McGee, she smiled.

"McGee!" Abby sang and jumped on him, pulling him into a bare hug. The woman's eyes, when they opened, popped open and noticed Carmen standing behind the embracing pair. She slipped from the hug and ran over to her stereo and turned it off.

"Hi, I'm Abby Sciuto," she said with so much enthusiasm, Carmen winced from such happy greetings, and watched the woman bounce over to her. Despite the woman's odd behavior and attire, she couldn't help but smile widely-genuinely.

"Hello, Abby, I'm Carmen Wilson," Carmen greeted in return. "I'm a new agent for Mr. Gibbs—Agent Gibbs."

"Gibbs!" Abby said excited. "Wow when you said Mr. Gibbs, it's sounds so weird, but we have to call him Gibbs—well always call him Gibbs, but anyway, we get to work together. Whoot!"

Abby, feeling an another surge of excitement, scooped Carmen into her arms and forced her into a hug.

"Um, thanks," Carmen mumbled once the woman Abby released her. She surprisingly was quite strong.

Abby walked back to McGee and whispered, "Thank gosh she doesn't have red hair or we might have had a problem."

McGee promptly agreed. Carmen heard this and again, her curiosity was peaked although she was already aware of Agent Gibbs' infatuation with red head woman.

"What would happen if I had red hair?"

"Oh, you heard that?" Abby said innocently, but when it came to Gibbs, she loved talking about him. "Well, Gibbs likes—"

"Abby!" McGee interrupted her. They exchanged looks.

"Fine! But I will tell her sooner or later!" She paused. "Hey, maybe we can have a sleepover then I can tell you all the gossip about Gibbs! This is going to be so much fun!"

Although a sleepover was a little childish and juvenile, Carmen considered it—make friends—gain information.

Carmen smiled.

"Okay, Abby, we got to go. Bye." McGee nudged Carmen to the door.

"So soon?" pouted Abby. "Okay. Bye McGee, bye Carmen. It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Abby," Carmen replied, before disappearing with Agent McGee into the elevator. "I like Abby."

"It's hard not to," he smiled, and they stepped onto the elevator. He hit the basement button before continuing. "Now, we are going to meet Ducky."

"Who's Ducky?"

"Ducky is our coroner."

Carmen's brows furrowed between momentarily considering the name 'Ducky.' _Cute and intriguing_, she thought, and wondered who belonged to that name.

The elevators doors opened and a smell all too familiar to her invaded her senses. She inwardly cringed once Agent McGee left the elevator, but she quickly collected her before following after him. They walked into the coroner's room of where hosted with an older man at his desk.

"Ah, hello. McGee, I'm surprised to see you down here," the old man chuckled, and turned into his chair to greet this new companions. He took notice of the figure behind McGee and greeted her as well except with an cheery reception.

"Why, my dear. I'm Ducky Mallard—Donald, excuse me," he chuckled at his slip; "And you must be Dr. Carmen Wilson."

Carmen smiled warmly at the declaration of her correct title and walked over to accost the man, Ducky.

"You're a doctor?" McGee asked surprised, staring between the two, well, doctors.

"Yes and the top of her class," Ducky bragged, flattering Carmen with blush.

"But how—"

"The director asked me. He had three people in mind, my dear, but I told him you were the best for the job."

Carmen couldn't help but smile. "So you're the one responsibility for making this all possible for me? I know you a large debt, sir. And stop it, Ducky your making me blush."

"But it is true, my dear," he said blushing in return.

"So why aren't you a doctor anymore?" McGee asked.

"Well I went to school to be a doctor and landed my first job right of college, but I wasn't as passionate as I thought I could be."

"Then you became an agent?" McGee asked.

"No, then I joined the Marines and . . ." She stopped. All the memories came painfully flooding her mind. It could be visibly seen on her face and she despised it. Only Ducky caught glimpse of her expression. " . . . and then somehow ended up as an agent, yes."

"Did you know that Gibbs was an Marine."

"No I didn't," she lied with a force smile. " . . . Well it was very nice to meet you Ducky."

"Pleasure is mine, my dear." He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. _

"It's Gibbs," McGee said looking down at his phone, then answered it. "Yes boss?"

Carmen couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was a short conversation.

"He's getting away! And they need me to track his car GPS!"

Ducky nodded and walked back over to his desk. "Good luck my dear. And about Gibbs." Carmen stopped when hearing his the man's name. "Don't take anything he does or says to heart. He will eventually warm up to you."

Carmen thanked him quickly and said goodbye before scurrying to the elevator before the door shut. Agent McGee ran out of the elevator to his desk. He started typing away at his computer faster than Carmen had ever seen.

"Here, call Gibbs," he said, tossing his phone to Carmen. Her heart skipped another beat, but nevertheless, she searched his contact list looking for Gibbs' name. She quickly found it and pressed talk. She put it on speaker phone so she wouldn't have to speak to him directly.

"McGee where is he!" Gibbs' voice suddenly snapped. Even from beyond, he still had the ability to frighten her slightly.

"He is rounding the corner of Jefferson and 10th . . . . Boss? " The phone went silent, seconds later shots were heard. "Boss is every—"

"It's fine, McGee—"

_Click._

"Did he just hang up?" McGee asked, peering over his computer monitor, eyes widened and concerned. Carmen sadly nodded, sincerely hoping that every turned out alright, and gently placed the phone on his desk. She looked around and found a chair and rolled it besides McGee's desk.

"So, . . ." Carmen treaded lightly; "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Tim." She watched his raise. "I mean we have time, right? The bad guy is caught?"

"Hopefully," he sighed loudly, his head rolling backward.

"What do you mean?"

"About a year ago," he sighed again. "We found a woman and her child without reason to be, well, murdered. We found absolutely nothing; no evidence, no leads—just nothing. Unfortunately, the case went case— even despite Gibbs' ferocious passion. He took the failure to his heart. Then, after months another woman and her child were found; same M.O. and everything. You've no idea the toll it took on him. I mean, it never speaks of it personally, to anyone, but you just see it in his eyes. And now, just two weeks ago, another woman and child were found. . . . It's why, well, Gibbs' considerately more agitated than usual."

"Why did Gibb take this case to heart?" Carmen asked, but she already had an strong behind his motivation.

McGee sighed sadly again.

"While Gibbs was in Iraq, his wife and child were murdered—" his voice cracked and he cleared throat, but didn't continue—or perhaps he just couldn't. Carmen bowed her head in respect, her memories flood back with a force.

"I'm so sorry."

"So if Gibbs seems like an ass, he has a good reason to be. He only pushes you because he cares, so you'll know if he takes a liking to you or not. He'll always have your back despite his cold mannerism."

Carmen force a small smile, and nodded. The conversation drifted away from the case at hand into a more positive direction, speaking about McGee, his interests, and various other topics including a book he write 'loosely' based from his work and coworkers. Carmen told him to get to a copy for her with a bubbling smile. The conversation shifted to places around D.C. for her to check out like good restaurants, coffee houses, and bars around the area. Carmen was gratefully to forge a good alliance with Agent McGee—or friendship as he would call it. Then the odd woman, Abby, came upstairs and becomes explaining her interests and tattoos.

"I've always wanted to get a tattoo," Carmen said mischievously, knowing it would enflame Abby's excitement. From the corner of Carmen's eye, she saw Agent McGee's brow raise in surprise. _Yea, _she agreed. _I'm not really a tattoo person. _

"What's stopping you?" Abby squealed. "You know, I know this great place that does mine."

"I don't know," Carmen smiled, winking at McGee, of who smiled in return. "I guess I was just too busy, or simply, I just don't have the guts."

"Guts or not guts. I'm taking you to get one!" Abby bounced up and down, excited she was daydreaming about inviting a friend along.

"To get one what?"

The sudden tired and aggravated voice startled the trio, but Abby twirled around and pulled the man into her embrace—to Carmen's sole shock.

"Abby!" He shouted, but the woman continued to hold him in her furious grasp. Carmen waited for him to yell at her, but he didn't. Strangely, and to her most anticipated reaction, he pulled away and walked around to his desk. He walked past her without so much as a glance—he simply walked to his desk and plopped down exhausted. He appeared as if he was going to pass-out.

"So what happened?" McGee asked his coworkers as they joined the bull pen, standing behind his desk, his voice spouting concern again.

"He got away," a younger woman replied, of who Carmen recognized as the woman who had been following Agent Gibbs in the elevator, her voice dipping in disappointment. Then a man named DiNozzo entered from the elevator, body just as worn down as the other two. He didn't have anything to say or add.

Carmen turned her head toward Gibbs, wanting to judge his behavior upon the matter, but she just met a stony reception, a face of cold steel. However, she sis notice his eyes blinking far too rapidly than what was considered normal. He shook his head as if he was trying to come out of a dizzy spell. No one seemed to notice his odd behavior. And despite his irritations, he was managing to answer all the questions that fired out of Abby's mouth.

"Are you okay, Gibbs?"

"I'm fine Abby," he lied.

"You could have been hurt! From now on, you can't leave without saying good-bye to me first . . And giving me a hug . . And giving me a kiss on the cheek."

And again, becoming baffled again and despite everything she learned, Gibbs defiled his infamous persona. It seemed he held very special and exclusive relationship with the woman. It didn't seem to faze the other members of the team.

And after sometime baring Abby's questions, Gibbs sighed, stood, and met the woman around his desk. He half smiled and—

"Carmen?"

Hearing her name, she snapped towards this new voice. "Carmen,? I'm Ziva David. It's nice to meet you. Although I admit, I had no idea we were adding an addition to the team."

"I'm Agent DiNozzo," said the man who had burst into her interview to fetch Agent Gibbs, coming to stand before with a wide grin. "But you can call me Tony, if you like. "

When Carmen shook his hand, he winked at her. She owned a strong desire to roll her eyes at the lady's charmer, but just offered him a half-smile. He was a handsome and sharply dressed man, she had to admit. _Probably a cougar tamer, _shemused.

"Agent Carmen Wilson," she replied to the pair, and just for kicks, she added, "but you can call me Carmen." She winked at Agent DiNozzo, teasing the man with his own game. However not a second later, Agent Gibbs interrupted.

"Wilson!"

Carmen inwardly cringed, but her face remained collected and she turned around to meet her new boss' reception.

"This is Wilson. Vance hired her because _he_ thinks were need another agent." His voice was condescending and irritable.

"How come you didn't tell us about hiring someone new?" McGee asked.

"Because I didn't know myself until just today."

Gibbs, having retaken his seat behind his desk, suddenly stood up, his body lightly swaying to the side, his hands holding his head. He sighed and began to shrug off his suit jacket revealing the coffee stain and—

Abby gasped and shrieked, "Gibbs your blooding!" The woman was at his side in a moment.

Everyone was in 'awe,' but no one moved. Carmen watched Gibbs looked down to his shirt, momentarily regarding the coffee stain before his eyes traveled further south, stopping as his peered down at a long, hormonal slash across his lower abdominal, blood seeping through his light blue shirt.

Abby whimpered in fear and started to frantically pull the man's tucked shirt from his pants.

"Abby!" Gibbs yelled, feeling himself become undressed by the woman's hands, but it was to late. Abby had pull, unbuttoned his shirt, and spread the leaves of his shirt wide open to reveal a bleeding cut from hip to hip.

Despite Agent Gibbs' bleeding body, Carmen couldn't help but notice the man was of a very strong build and quite in shape for a man of his age. Then she caught a glimpse of something, not fear but puzzlement? Carmen considerate the man for several moments before concluding the man had not idea how he hurt.

"Boss you need to get that looked at," DiNozzo suddenly piped in, but then disdain spread across his face, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

"Always stating the obvious, DiNozzo."

"It's not too serious," Carmen said, stepping forward. "I could stitch you up, if you wanted." And without waiting for his answer of 'no,' Carmen walked around his desk and stopped before the man. "May I?"

She hadn't intended to sound so sarcastic and watched as one brow raised suspiciously.

"What qualifies you to be a doctor?" he asked spitefully.

_Oh, I don't know. Six years of medical school and a degree? _She kept her thoughts at bay, knowing he'd become fierce, and having no desire to step out of line with the man, answered:

"I was a doctor before becoming an agent."

She watched his brow raise again, but this time she ignored him. By now she had bent down to examine the cut.

"If you don't want to go to the emergency room, I can stitch you up here. I'm sure Doctor Mallard has the instruments here to do so," she said, looking up from his waist. If he said yes, then it would be a big step forward to gaining his trust, however if he didn't, it would feel like a slap in the face. She stood up, waiting for his answer.

"Thanks, but I'll just go to Ducky."

_SLAP!_

Agent Gibbs walked past her, slightly pushing her on his way out as he went. Abby was right on his heels.

"Go home and get some rest. I'll see you all on Monday!"

Watching Agent Gibbs and Abby disappear into an elevator, Carmen turned to Agent McGee and sighed, "I tried."

"Gibbs is . . ." Agent McGee looked to Tony and Ziva as he stumbled over the right word to describe their boss.

"Gibbs is not a very trusting man." Agent David plainly divulged.

"So I noticed," Carmen said, and plopped down her in chair beside Agent McGee's desk. "It'll take some time, I know."

"Well see you later all, then," Agent David said, gathering her things into her bag.

"You mean 'see you all later.' " Carmen corrected her with a small smile.

"That is what I said,"

"See, that's the spirit!" sang Agent DiNozzo. "You're fitting in all ready." He continued to explain that Ziva always misspoke and still have no grasp on American expressions. Ziva retorted by throwing a pencil at Tony. She rolled her eyes. "Bye guys. Good Night, Carmen."

Agent David disappeared into an elevator.

"You need a ride home since you just moved here?" Agent McGee offered. Carmen sincerely appreciated the kind gesture, but declined.

"No, thanks, McGee. I was going to grab a drink anyway. I'll just get a cab. Thanks though." She smiled at him and said her goodbyes, and disappeared into the elevator.

"Awe, Probie," Tony pouted, and taunted him. "Gets shut down by the new girl on the first day!?"

McGee rolled his eyes. "Good-night Tony!"

**~:.:~**

"Abby, why don't you go home, Ducky is almost done here." Gibbs rubbed Abby's shoulder desperately trying to insure some kind of confident in the woman.

"Well, okay!" she sulked finally. "But call me when you get home. I don't want you to—"

"Abby! I'm fine. Go home. Get some sleep." Gibbs didn't raise his voice. "Bye Abs." Gibbs motioned his arm for a hug. Abby happily skipped over to him, and carefully hugged him. He kissed her on her head. "Good-night Abby."

Abby finally left.

"That should do it." Ducky said, cutting the left over stitches. "What happened out there Jethro?"

"I don't know, I don't even remembering feeling it." Gibbs said, looking down at his cut. "I was so focused on catching him that I . . . " He bowed his head in frustration, and released he was divulge the old man too much. "I don't know when I got cut. But I'm fine now, thanks." Once again Gibbs dismissed his emotions. Gibbs hopped over the table, and begin button his shirt.

"So how is your newest member getting along?" Ducky asked with a cheerful voice.

"Who? Wilson?" Gibbs said nonchalantly. The woman had barley crossed his mind.

"You know when I picked her I—"

"Wait? You picked her?!"

"Well, yes dear boy," Ducky said, ignoring the flaming temper beginning to writhe. "About a two weeks ago the director came to me and asked my opinion on some candidates, and Carmen was the far most quality and well-rounded."

"So you went behind my back is what you're telling me? Why did you keep this from me? It's my god-damn team!"

"Because of this _exact _reason. You would have shut the poor girl down without so much a second's consideration. However now that she is here, you just can't send her back."

"Like hell I can," he spat, and finished buttoning his shirt. He started towards to the elevator. "Thanks Duck."

"Jethro?"

Gibbs reluctantly turned around.

"She is a sweet girl, don't scare her off."

Gibbs scuffed the old man's words, and vanished into the elevator. He need to drain this nightmare. He needed a drink.


	2. Stitches

Gibbs pulled his vehicle into a slot, slowly shifting it into park contemplating the strong motive of whether he wanted to drink alone in his basement or not. Deciding that 'hell he was already here,' snatched his suit jacket from the passenger seat, stepped out, and shrugged it on, carefully aware of the burning sensation across his lover abdominal. He was too irritated and angry to even acknowledge the pain as it spread across his chest. Instead, he simply clenched his jaw shut to distract him away from the annoying pain. Despite his steele exterior, his emotions were beginning to bubble and boil over inside of him.

Gibbs felt so strongly insensitive about his failure that he dictated that he deserved to feel the pain—that he deserved to suffer. He hadn't even taken the consideration for his appearance. He ascended into the bar still sporting his coffee stained and blood soaked shirt. Nothing matter but a bourbon.

The bar wasn't crowded apart from a few people scattered here and there. Gibbs rarely drink in public aside from special occasions, but considering the pulsing rage he felt in his trembling hands, drinking alone probably wasn't a good idea.

He plopped down on a stool beside the bar and ordered himself a bourbon. Waiting as patiently as he could muster, he propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes wanting close to exhaustion, but he wouldn't allow himself that luxury. He observed the people around the bar. There was a large group of college students stuffed in a corner were watching a football game, a couple in the back sharing an intimate space, and various loners like himself. He continued to survey the room, downing his class of bourbon when the bartender had arrived with his drink and then immediately called for another one, then a caramel brunette caught his eye.

The woman was across the bar and was too far to identify. For some reason she intrigued him, perhaps took his mind away from his raging thoughts. She was with a man and they looked like they enjoying each others' company. He'd watch her laugh into the man's shoulder every time he'd say something funny, or if become she embarrassed, she'd cover her mouth to hide her smile. Then the man turned around to order another drink when Gibbs recognized him. McGee? He dismissed that thought immediately upon concluding he was here with a woman. _McGee on a date? Well good is him. _Gibbs quickly downed another glass of bourbon, and a funny thought. Perhaps he should introduce himself to his friend.

Gibbs waved the bartender over again and ordered another glass of bourbon. The bartender eyed him—it'd be his fourth glass in ten minutes—but didn't refuse his order. Gibbs smiled to himself and quickly drained the glass.

"McGee!?" Gibbs sang in an unusually high pitch. "What a surprise seeing you here." Gibbs had forcefully placed his hand on McGee's shoulder causing the man to jump out of his skin. "McGee! Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Boss!? What are you doing here?" McGee had stood from his stool and blocked his view to the woman he was with.

"I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I would drop in," his words slurred together and, realizing it, Gibbs cleared his throat.

McGee squinted his eyes at his boss's odd behavior. "In the neighborhood? Boss, uh, are . . . are you a drunk?"

Gibbs ignored his inquiry and repeated his question about his friend.

McGee stood awkwardly between Gibbs and the woman and, finally stepping aside, revealed the woman he had been talking with, Carmen Wilson.

Carmen had accidentally hit the wrong floor, of which accident took her to the parking garage instead of the main floor. While she waited for the elevator to come back down, McGee appeared from the elevator. He offered again to take her home, but then she asked him if he would like to join her for a drink. He accepted, and they drove together to a bar that he claimed he was the only one to know about. Where they continued talking about where they left off at the NCIS.

Gibbs watched Carmen curl her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down. _Just like clockwork_, he smirked. She half-smiled at him in return, considering all that had happened between them—the spilled coffee, the betrayal of the director and Ducky, and his refusal to let her attend to his cut. The tension between the mere feet that separated the two were quiet tense. He narrowed his sights upon her, making her slightly shift in her chair, an implication of which perversely pleased him.

"Boss, this is Carmen Wilson," McGee began carefully, ineffectively trying to lighten the mood. "Carmen this is Gibbs. I think you two have already met each other."

Gibbs couldn't help rolling his eyes at his younger coworker, and scolded his silly mood lighter.

"Right, boss," he said crushing under the odd pressure. "I'll get you another drink," he continued and disappeared to the other end of the bar, leaving Carmen to the hungry lion.

Feeling knots begin to swell in her stomach, Carmen turned back to her drink, mindlessly playing with the straw. She noticed from the corner of her eye, Gibbs was paying any attention his self and had turned to the TV across the counter. Why he came over in the first place puzzled Carmen. And how, among all the bars in D.C., had they came to the same one. And why did it have to happened now?

They continued to sit in silence, however she exclusively wanted McGee to come and rescue her. However, despite the awkward silence, Carmen used the time alone to analyze Gibbs and seemingly unusual behavior. She had studied the man, knew his motives, knew his aspirations, his skills, his anticipated thoughts, feelings, reactions. She knew this man, however the man who was bobbling along the line of drunk beside her, she did not. . . . And the silence was eating at her.

"So, ah," she suddenly began before she realized she was speaking; "how are your stitches?"

"Fine I guess," he replied without taking his eyes from the TV. Carmen nodded and turned back to her drink, mindlessly swirling the umbra again. Then as she cast her across the bar, finding McGee waiting for the bartender, she caught a glimpse of something red on his body. She turned her head finding his lower abdominal with fresh, wet blood seeping through the already darken red stains. He was still wearing the same shirt, and his blood pressure mixed the alcohol was pumping and thinning his blood. When she was going to inquire about it, McGee wondered back with Gibbs' drink.

"Here we are, boss," he said handing him the glass, then came around Carmen on her other side, sighing as he sat down. Carmen turned and faced McGee. She mouthed the words 'help me', then turned back facing the bar. McGee understood more than clearly.

"So boss, how long have you been coming to this bar?" Carmen turned to McGee and eyed him with screw up face, wondering where that question came from. McGee shrugged his shoulders at her and turned back to Gibbs. Gibbs had seen the exchange in looks in between them.

"First time." Gibbs said, not really taking an interest in the conversation, but snuck a glance at Carmen. She was avoiding his stare, and playing with her drink again. He inwardly smirked.

"You know it's getting late." McGee said, pretty obvious with his motives of escape. "Carmen, do you want to head out? I can drop you off at your apartment."

Gibbs smiled to himself, knowing full well she wanted to the hell out of there.

Carmen saw a smirk register on his face. This would be the only time she'd have a one-on-one—even though he seem half-drunk, but nevertheless talking with her boss when he was drunk was a positive thing. And she didn't want to leave her first impressive of herself like that, so she turned to McGee and kindly declined again.

"You know McGee, I think I'm going to stay here a little longer." She smiled weakly at him as he was confused. "Don't worry. I can call a cab."

"I guess . . . see you on Monday, then. Boss. Good bye, Carmen." McGee slowly nudged his way out of the bar still unsure where he went wrong.

Gibbs didn't take his eyes off the TV as McGee left him and Carmen alone, ignoring the presence beside him. He watched Carmen turn back to her drink, fidgeting with the napkins before bringing her drink to her lips and took a long sip. She replaced the drink onto the napkin, her tongue peeking from her lips to wipe the sipped drink from her mouth. Watching her, he admitted, was fascinating.

The knots tighten harder in her stomach as Carmen tried to appear as unaffected and defiant to the man sitting besides her, obviously not welcoming conversation. She sighed, realizing her ploy of staying behind was useless. She picked up her drink again and quickly drain the remaining alcohol. It send quite a tingling buzz to ripple through her body, but it didn't eliminate his hot gaze.

Gibbs watched her as she fidgeted with her straw after downing her drink. _3 . . . 2 . . . _Knowing Carmen was aware of his attention, his continued to bore a hole in the side of her face. . . . _1_ . . . And like clockwise, the woman sucked her bottom lip into mouth and bit it. Gibbs couldn't help but laugh out at loud. She looked at him, wondering what he was laughing at.

"What?" she asked.

"You," he said still chuckling, then stopped and looked at her.

"Me? What about me?"

"Never mind, its nothing." He shook his head and held back his smile. He didn't want to tell her that everything time he came by her, she would bite her lip. It would wreck all his fun.

"Well obviously it's something. I mean to make you laugh—"

He stared at her with intention and intensity to drop the conversation. He didn't even have to say it, he could just read minds and put the information in their heads.

"Dropping it . . . " She turned back to her drink. "So you married?"

He didn't answer, but take a sip of his drink. She watched him. He didn't actually take a drink of his drink, did he?"

"I'm going to take that as a no . . ." He gave her a 'da' look. "So do you—"

"Are we going to play Q&A all dam night! I didn't come here to be questioned. I just wanted a dam drink."

Carmen was taken back, her defensive nature wanting to fight him, but she didn't want to step out of line with the man.

"Well," Carmen said sadly, and cleared her throat. " Excuse me. You are right. . . . I didn't come out here to have a conversation with a coworker. Oh wait I did!"

Gibbs gritted his teeth—he didn't care for her tone.

" . . . But I sure as hell didn't come here to get barked out!" Carmen grabbed her purse, but then suddenly stopped and remembered Gibbs was bleeding from his stitches.

"Just to let you know . . " She turned and met his gaze." You tore more than one of your stitches . . . might want to get it checked out. More than liking you're going to get an infection. Bye, Special Agent Gibbs."

Carmen loudly sighed and made her way out of the establishment. Gibbs followed her with his eyes until she disappeared out the door. He turned back to his glass of bourdon, drained it quickly, his face frowning sadly.

**~:.:~**

Carmen, having awoken very early the next morning in her seemingly empty apartment, decided she would take this lovely opportunity to scout out the NCIS building, especially with the added bonus of it being Saturday and the likelihood of another co-worker being there was slim. And that notation relieved her. Not that she didn't like her new co-workers.

Agent McGee seemed like a kind man, knowledgeable of computers, and seemingly a good man. Her future relationship with him would not suffer. She could come to like this man. Then there was Agent Ziva. In the one hand shake, Carmen depicted her as a very strong woman, both emotionally and physically; the muscle of the group, as it is said. Carmen would remember not to cross the woman. And then Agent DiNozzo. Carmen determined him to be a very proud man, very comical, and seemingly predicted some kind falling-out would happen between them. She'll have to keep an eye on the man.

Then there was Special Agent Gibbs. . . . A migraine was coming on, and Carmen didn't want to think about him. So Carmen made herself a quick pot of coffee, called a cab, and made her way to her new employment.

Carmen found herself in the elevator again, regretting she hadn't come. Her bed was calling her, but nevertheless, when the door _ding! _she came out onto the floor finding it happily empty and deserted. She slowly stepped off the elevator and peeked around the corner. She didn't see anyone occupying the bull pen and immediately straightened herself. She was being silly, she thought.

Carmen crossed the bull pen and came to the empty desk on the right of McGee's separated between a lovely wall divider. Perfect, she thought and plopped down in the chair. She continued to just there, feeling emptiness begin to creep up on her. She sighed and pulled herself underneath the desk. She began organizing her personal belongs—not that she had many—and rearranging the drawers. Through these endeavors, she felt this nagging itch too cast her eyes over Gibbs' desk. She didn't know why, and it puzzled her thoroughly.

She sighed again once complete, and was about to stand when she heard this sound. This kind-of grunting sound. She frowned and shifted from her chair, beginning to follow the strange noise. The noise grew louder as she neared the men's bathroom. She pecked her ear and listened more attentively for the sound. The grunt came again and it definitely sound like a man in pain.

She swallowed hard and pushed open the door. Who or what she was going to find, she didn't know, but going into the men's room as a woman there was bound to be problematic troubles. She came to a halt, surprised to see what she found:

Agent Gibbs was half-naked, hunched over the sink, wiping blood away from his stomach, his breath ragged and his energy plummeting. The sight of so much blood frightened her. He must not have heard her come for she continued to just stare at him and his stomach in the reflection of the mirror. He was biting back the pain, his face visibly suffering from anguish and pain. Despite his crude behavior to her, he had her sympathy.

And finally after several minutes, Gibbs finally looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror. He turned around to find her staring worriedly back at him. He didn't say anything, but just turn around.

"How bad is it?" he suddenly asked, still ignoring her presence behind him as he continued to clean the blood away. When she didn't answer immediacy, he looked at her through the mirror. She shook her head.

"It's not bad." Carmen relayed and walked over to him, then kneeled before him and grabbed the folds in his pants to turned his body towards her. He wasn't going to say no to her this time. He didn't protest her, but continued to eye her closely through her examination.

"You've pulled out practically all your stitches," she said, then stood. "You need to go the hospital."

"Can't you do it?" he sulked, the sound of hospitals discouraging him.

"I don't know. . . . Are you going to trust me?"

The question wasn't a rhetorical spat; Carmen wanted to know his answer and remained stilled with her arms crossed over her chest waiting for his response. However, he remained silent for several moments as if to actually consider her words, then finally he nodded with a sigh. She sighed too, and walked out of the men's bathroom.

Carmen returned with an emergency medical box.

"Sit," she demanded, and motioned for the counter of the sink. Hearing the tone in her voice, he eyed but ultimately slinked to the counter and propped himself up on the counter. "Alright, now take off your pants."

Her statement was serious, and she somehow remained as still as possible, continuing to emit a face of stone. She was completely serious, and knew he was going to protest.

"Why? Ducky—"

"I know," she gently growled. "I just . . . want to make sure you don't accidental tear them on your pants. Here I brought you a pair of medical scrubs."

"You've got to kidding me."

"No, I never kid," she said flatly and rolled her eyes. "It's probably why you torn them in the first place. The cut is pretty low to your abdomen. Your pants could have rubbed, and tern them. Or you were just careless."

"Hey—"

She tossed them the scrubs and turned around.

He scuffed, "Were not little kids anymore . . . "

He tossed the scrubs on the counter, and easily took off his pants. When Carmen turned around she found him in nothing but his navy blue briefs and his opened button up shirt stained with his blood. She rolled her eyes again when he smirked and sat down.

"What? Are you just going to stare all day, or stitch me up?"

Carmen rolled her yes yet again and came to his side. She opened her kit and begin lying out the medications and tools. "Alright, lean back and keep your stomach from wrinkling … from creasing," she corrected herself quickly, regretting her first vocabulary choice.

"Is that supposed to be a joke on my age?" he mused with a not so harmless brow raise. Carmen ignored it for the moment, and cleared her throat again, coming to stand between his legs.

"Depends," she smirked.

"On?"

Carmen bent forward, slightly lowering herself to his navel, examining his cut again. She was about to reply to him when the door to the bathroom opened and in entered Agent DiNozzo. He stopped dead in his tracks; all he could see was Gibbs sitting on the counter—sitting in nothing but his boxers!—and Carmen's head inches from his crotch.

"Oh I see how you get to the top," he spat comically, and slightly betrayed with a little twinkle in his eye.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes Boss?"

"Out! Now!"

"Right, Boss . . . I guess you two need to finish what you started, then." After having said his retort and not wanting to risk death, Tony bolted from of the room. Carmen could feel Gibbs's muscles tense and placed her hand on his stomach, the touch of her relaxing his muscles.

"Kids," she chuckled. "But you've got to admit that it _does_ look like we're—"

The burning darts that Gibbs shot her made her shut her jaw shut, and continued to stitch him up. After a careful while, Carmen finished. "Alright. You should . . . be good."

"What do you mean I . . . _should_ be good?"

"Well, I mean, it depends solely on you . . . If you are careful, they won't tear, but if your careless again, well . . . "

Gibbs rolled his eyes, and slid off the counter, beginning to redress himself. Carmen stood watching, but she didn't realize it. Gibbs slid the scrubs on and noticed it.

"Like something you see Wilson?" he sang, smirking, and buttoned up his shirt. .

Carmen rolled her eyes, playing it off. "You know for old—der guy, you sure like to flirt a lot."

"You call this flirting?" He asked seriously, finishing the buttons on his shirt. "You sure must have had a swell of a time of it in college."

"Oh sure, you know every guy on the football team always came to me when they got hurt . . . I wonder why?"

"I don't know . . . so why don't you describe it to me," he teased before walking out the door.

How he went from cold to hot was a mystery to Carmen that she was determined to find out.


	3. Last Chances

Carmen abruptly awoke the next morning to the sound of her cell phone ringing on her nightstand beside her bed. Turning to the window and finding it still dark, she growled and threw her blankets aside. _Who in the hell could be calling at this time of night_!? she cursed under her breath as she blindly fished for her wrenched phone in the darkness. And finally clenching the annoying device in her hand, she calmed her ensuing temper and answered:

"Hello?"

The voice that responded was shrilling with concern and apprehension, and caused Carmen to fling herself forward, but then as the conversation proceeded, she fell back into her pillows.

"Carmen? It's Abby . . . You know, from work?"

"Abby, its—" Carmen turned towards her alarm clock, adjusting and squinting her eyes at the vibrant red numbers and, discovering the lateness of the hour, growled again. "Three o'clock in the morning! And I'm nursing a hangover. What's so important you couldn't wait until morning?"

"I know, its just, I mean, I'm so sorry for calling, it's just . . . "

Carmen, sensing Abby's extreme concern about something and her desire to talk about it with her, sighed and relaxed her temper again.

"I'm sorry Abby. You are obviously worried about something. What's wrong? . . . Wait, how did you get my number?"

"Oh, I hacked into your account and you know, you definitely need to change your password 'cause Calhoun-one-one-seven-five-eight was really easy to guess . . . " she rumbled, then took a large breath at the end. "I mean where did you come up with that?"

Despite Abby's obvious brilliance regarding computer hacking and Carmen's natural feeling of scolding her for it, Carmen held no desire to express or explain her motivation behind the password. And the odd woman on the other end of the line also sensed her hesitation.

"I'm sorry, was that too personal?"

The naïve and remorseful tone in Abby's voice, for some reason, made Carmen want to ease her anxiety for crossing a line. Abby obviously really needed to talk to her about something—she could scold her that and replied:

"No, it's alright, Abby. It's simply my mother's maiden name and the numbers were of her birthday date."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, Carmen assumed, as Abby processed her response.

"_Were _of her birth date?" Abby repeated. "Your mom past away?"

"You could say that. "

"What do you mean?"

Carmen sighed rather loudly, having now regretted revealing the inspiration behind the password. This was something she never excepted to reveal to anyone, especially those that she worked with. The information was much too sensitive and dangerous to reveal. It had the potential to ruin her and her plans. But remembering the rather eccentric woman she had met two days prior, she thought 'how could telling her this, hurt her in the future?' and proceeded with a shortened version.

"Short version only," Carmen stated seriously. "My mother was murdered when I was just 13. She was a marine and was on an undercover mission in when her partner become compromised. They captured him, tortured him, and eventually killed him. But not before revealing to them about my mother."

An audible gasp came from the other line as the breath in Abby's throat caught, "Oh no."

"When _he_ discovered my mother was an uncover agent, _he_ found her—and me. I watched my own mother die in front of me . . . I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"That must have been terrible. Did they catch her killer?"

"No, no they didn't. They covered it up—made it look like it never happen!" Carmen could feel the rage begin to surface, and realized that she had to calm herself so she accidentally didn't reveal anything important. She breathed out and continued. "When I tried to tell the authorities what happened—mind I was 13, but nevertheless, they didn't believe me. They said I was making it up. They said I was traumatized. But ultimately, they were just trying to cover up the mission and trying to cover their asses."

"Who is _they_?"

"I don't know," Carmen lied. "It was a top secret assignment."

"Is that why you became an agent?"

"No."

Abby was taken aback by Carmen's such flat response, but ignored and replied: "I'm so sorry Carmen."

"For what? You did nothing. Never apologize for something you never did." Carmen responded, then was surprised to hear a giggle ring from the other end.

"That reminds me of Gibbs."

Carmen raised her brow, becoming intrigued about an aspect of Gibbs' life that she had no knowledge of. If this was a personal aspect, she would have had no prior consideration about it and desired to know this personal detail of Gibbs. "What do you mean?"

"His rule number six," she answered with a hint of excitement in her voice. It seemed she loved talking about three things: Tattoos, Gibbs, and forensics. "Never say you're sorry, for it is a sign of weakness . . . isn't that brilliant!"

"Gibbs said that?" Carmen replied intrigued, Abby's excitement becoming her own. "And what are his rules?"

"Gibbs! Now I remember why I called!" Carmen could tell Abby was jumping up and down. "Gibbs! Is he okay? Did he tear a stitch? Was there a lot of blood? Did he go to the hospital? Is he okay?" Carmen laughed at Abby's anxious and obnoxious behavior over him. "This is not a laughing matter! Tony told me nothing but silly jokes about you and Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs is fine" Carmen bit her giggling. "Yes, he tore a stitch—actually all of them, in fact. But no, there was not a lot of blood. No, he did not go to the hospital although I insisted that he need. But rather, I fixed him up. . . . And yes, Abby, he is okay." Carmen smiled through the phone hearing Abby's relief.

"I was so worried when I left Gibbs. I wanted to stay with him all night, but he forced me to go home insisting he was alright, but I knew better! I couldn't get any sleep I've been so worried about him!"

"So I noticed," Carmen jabbed kindly. "Abby, why don't we finish this conversation tomorrow at work. Good-night Abby."

"Okay," she sulked, obviously having no desire to cease talking, but she accepted Carmen's point that they need sleep otherwise Gibbs would be upset. And Carmen thoroughly expressed she did not want that on her first/second day of work.

"I guess . . . " she replied slowly, really dragging it out. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. "

"Good night Abby."

_Click._

Carmen threw her phone at the end of her bed and rolled over, her body aching for comfort, but her mind otherwise desired thought. She tried to fall back asleep but her mind kept drifting towards Gibbs. This was truly the man that would aid her in life long cause. But how he would help without detection perplexed her. It was plainly apparent the man did not like her, although his comment about describing her experiences in college contradicted that notion. However afterwards, Gibbs ignored her—and Agent DiNozzo—once she finished stitching him in the mens' bathroom, the three silently sat in the bull pen working on their respected works, apart from assorted snickers from Tony. Carmen, having nothing substantial to work on, left immediately and didn't complete her original intention of coming into work on a Saturday.

It had only been three days, and yet, Agent Gibbs confused her. Carmen suddenly threw off her covers again and snatched her phone in her hands, dialing the last phone to have had called her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Abby. I can't get back to sleep, either. Do you want to talk?"

"Talk about what? Tattoos? Coffins? Work? Gibbs?"

The woman sounded hyped, or possibility high.

"Um, well I guess since we were talking about Gibbs, maybe you can tell me about him—since he is my new boss and all?"

Having no personal information about Agent Gibbs, Carmen wanted to take this opportunity to gain a new perspective about the man.

"Wait. No!"

"What not?" Carmen frowned disappointed. Why had all of a sudden she not wanted to talk about Gibbs?

"Because silly! That's what a sleepover is. We stay up the whole night talking about boys. And we are going to a have sleepover! Because I'm dying to tell you all about Gibbs and his sexy affairs."

"What? Do you like Gibbs?" Carmen asked suddenly, trying her hardest not laugh out loud.

"No!" she squealed too quickly to be believable. "Oh, okay you got it out of me. Just a little, but don't tell anyone! You know I—"

"Abby?"

"Ya?"

"Lets save it for the sleepover."

Despite Carmen's strong need for information, she doubted she wanted to hear it from the lips of a woman who would probably describe every alluring detail about the man. A thought of which made her cringe.

"This is going to so much fun! You, Ziva and my friend from a club. She has this thing for older men—especially Gibbs . . . This is going to be so much fun!"

Carmen hanged up the phone suddenly dreading her decision of calling upon Abby again. The woman was especially kind and friendly, and of an extreme importance relating to her cause, but this non-sense about a sleepover? Carmen had no time for sleepovers? But then another thought crossed her mind regarding Agent DiNozzo and Agent McGee. Perhaps she could use this sleepover to her advantage.

Carmen fell back asleep devising a plan she hoped would lead her to what she has been looking for for the past 20 years.

**~:.:~**

Carmen awoke early the following morning with a throbbing head ache. When she peeked her eyes open, they forcefully shut closed as a blindly light cinched her retinas. _Fucking hell, _she cursed, rethinking that last cocktail she had had because Gibbs. Alcohol was a natural suppressant for her despite its effects of worsening depression. She groaned as she heaved herself out of bed and managed to shower, dress, and make coffee within a reasonable time. _Work_, she sighed, and hauled a cab into work.

Carmen spotted Abby getting out her car as she paid the cabbie the respected amount, and watched her wave and scurry towards her, unexpectedly jumping and hugging her before she could protest it.

"Good-morning, Carmen," she sang with an unfortunate cheerful voice that made her head ache scream. "You look tired. Didn't sleep well?"

"And your not?" Carmen replied perplexed with Abby's unusually vast amount of energy, excitement, and more energy. "How are you so—"

"Ready?"

That wasn't exactly the word Carmen would have used, but nevertheless the point came across, and agreed.

"I had a Caf-Pow this morning," she said bouncing up and down. "I'm ready!"

Having a difficult time accepting Abby's explanation, nevertheless, Carmen shrugged it off and joined Abby in the elevator. The doors were about to shut when they caught the sight of Agent McGee and Agent DiNozzo running towards them. Carmen caught the door before it shut and allowed the two agents to cram in.

"Thanks Probie," Agent DiNozzo said taking off his sunglasses and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Why were you wearing shades at seven in the morning?" McGee asked.

"It's all apart of the look, Probie," Tony replied with an arrogant tone, causing Agent McGee to roll his eyes at him.

"Ya, McGee!" Abby agreed. "You should get some shades . . . you would look dashing and handsome."

Carmen caught the brief blush that spread across Agent's McGee's face before he turned away.

"Thanks," Agent McGee said, carefully trying to juggle his cup of coffee, bag, and bundle of papers in his arms. Carmen smiled at him when the elevator jolted slightly and sent him crashing into the wall, his face screwing up in fearful anticipation, but he didn't drop anything and signed with relief.

The elevator's doors opened with a _ding! _and the group filed out in their respected destinations, however Abby stopped beside Agent David's desk instead, of whom had already arrived and was filling out paperwork. She slightly startled when Abby addressed her in an excited, but harsh whisper.

"Ziva! I'm having a sleepover and you are invited!"

Carmen, having settled in her own desk across the way, could see the confusion spread across Ziva's face, her brows furrowing together at lightly humming woman in front of her.

"Why are we whispering?" Ziva asked, then, spying Tony's becoming aroused interest in the matter, eyed the man as he tried to listen in.

"Because I don't want the guys to know about it," Abby replied in a whisper again.

"Why are we having a sleepover. Isn't that a children's game."

"What! You've never been to a sleepover?" she squawked suddenly, revealing the intended secret away, but Ziva shook her head. "They're are so fun!"

"What are fun?" Tony asked with a devilish grin, wondering the two woman were speaking so secretively and close. Abby just shot Tony a look and walked away.

"So . . . having a sleepover?" Tony asked once Abby left. "Huh? Sounds fun. Grown women—throwing pillows at each other and telling each other their deepest, darkest, secrets." Tony looked in the air as if he was remembering a sleepover of his own, expect he has never been invited, smiling devilishly.

Then a ringing phone interrupted the conversation.

McGee fished for cell phone out of his pocket, revealing it was Gibbs calling. He shrugged and answered it.

"Hello?"

Nothing could be heard, but Carmen listened intently to McGee's answers. Then he hanged up with a strange and bewildered expression on his face.

"What did he want?" Ziva asked. He appeared very confused, but finally revealed:

"He wants Carmen to go into the mens' bathroom?" McGee gave Carmen a strange look. Tony eyed her too.

"So, Bossman wants more, doesn't he? He's eager today?" Tony smirked.

"More of what?" Ziva asked, not understanding what was being said.

"Well," Tony began, looking to Carmen. "Yesterday I walked in on Carmen and Gibbs doing it."

"Doing what?!" Ziva shot up from her chair.

Carmen rolled her eyes at the childish man.

"Tony walked in on me stitching up Gibbs' cut," she simply said, shrugging the magnitude of Tony's declare away.

"Oh," Ziva said in relief, and cleared her throat slightly embarrassed with her overreaction. "I thought you meant something else."

Carmen shot Tony a look before standing up from her desk and making her way towards the bathrooms.

"If you don't come back in ten minutes, I just want to let you know, we will never find your body."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"No, it just a warning. For your benefit only."

Carmen smirked and disappear completely from their field of vision.

"I like her," Ziva said, turning to McGee and Tony in her seat.

"Yes, me too," McGee began. "I hope she can stick it out with Gibbs. I enjoy talking with her."

"Yes, well," Tony interrupted. "Don't get your hopes up too much. Gibbs hasn't broken her in like a new pair of shoes, yet."

**~:.:~**

Carmen halted in front of a sign marked Men as man, walking past her, eyed her as she stood in front of the mens' bathroom. She felt a bit foolish, but rolled her eyes and pushed the door open. She found Gibbs hunched over the sink washing his hands. She thought he would ask her to examine his stitches again, but he didn't. Instead she watched him dry his hands and walked past her.

He glanced at her before walking out the door. "Come."

Carmen rolled her eyes and sighed: bringing her into the mens bathroom was pointless, but she did as he commanded and followed him into the elevator. From the corner of her eye, she spied Tony, McGee, and Ziva watching her as she followed Gibbs.

She stepped slightly behind his immobile body. He stood there waiting for the elevators doors to shut, and once they did he flipped a switch. The elevator came to a sudden halt and the lights turned off.

Carmen could feel her heart begin to pound at his sudden wave of action: as soon as the lights switched off Gibbs turned toward her. He leaned against the railing and crossed his arms. He didn't say anything but his expression was loud. He rested against the railing, staring intensely at her. His face read with determination and rage.

Carmen stood awkwardly at the other side of the elevator, not quite sure what to do or say.

"Talk," he finally said in a harsh whisper. He was perfectly still, his gaze fixed on her.

The scene before her was unnerving: Gibbs' eyes were black orbs transfixed on every move she made, she was confined to a five-by-five box with lights casting dark shadows around him.

"Talk about what?" she asked causally, really having no idea what the man was speaking of. This little game he was playing wasn't amusing to her at all.

Gibbs didn't have any patients either. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped so close she could smell his sweat and cologne. He placed himself an inch from her face and whispered, "You have exactly three seconds to tell me about the assignment you've been keeping from me."

His voice was sharp and deaf on her ears. She felt herself back away from him until she hit the wall. He followed her closely, his face still within inches, her skin crawling every time he exhaled on her skin.

"One."

"Gibbs I have no idea what you are talking about!" she panicked, her back hitting the wall of the elevator.

"Two."

Carmen shook her head, "Gibbs, I don't know what your—"

"Last chance," he growled and grasped the railing on the either sides of her body, trapping her within his arms.

Carmen searched in his eyes, entertaining the idea that he possibly knew of her motives of transferring to NCIS. But it was not possible, she thought. There was no way he could have found out. Or did he?

"Gibbs, I—"

"Three."

Gibbs grabbed her wrist and swirled her body around, then pushed her body back into the wall twisting her arm against her back. Gibbs held her against the wall with his weight, offering pressure upwards on her arm.

"Gibbs! What the fuck!" Carmen breathed out.

Gibbs didn't take kindly to offense language, and applied a slight upwards pressure to her arms, her shoulder beginning to burn and ache with pain. She gasped out with the sudden, antagonizing pain, but didn't fight against him either.

"Tell me. Now."

**~:.:~**

"You know, I think it's been ten minutes?" Tony said staring at the elevator. McGee and Ziva glanced at each other, then back to the elevator.

**~:.:~**

"Gibbs! I don't—"

"Wrong answer," he said, pushing her arm a bit higher. It caused a grunt to escape her mouth. "I know your hiding something, and if you don't tell me I—"

"You'll what?" She knew he couldn't do anything more severe than this. She could take this pain. This was not pain to her, but he was trying to force the answer from her. She did not crack under pressure.

Gibbs gritted his teeth at her defilement against him, contemplating his next move. Several moments passed before he released her arm and flipped her body around. He grabbed her both of her wrists this time and pinned them above her above head, separating his body from hers.

"Tell me!" Gibbs demanded again.

Carmen remained silent; she could see his frustration becoming to weather away as his actions become released.

"Gibbs let me go," she said and tried to wiggle from his grasp. He replied by only tightening the grip he had on her. "Fuck!" she said flinging her head back against the wall, and sighed in defeat. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth."

"The truth—there is no truth. I'm not keeping anything from you," she lied. "I'm not on any assignment other than yours! Why won't you believe me?"

Carmen watched his gaze weaken as she rested her head against the wall. Gibbs followed her eyes with his own, and finally nodded and dropped his hands from hers. He stepped away from her and flipped the switch, the elevator resuming its course. The doors opened, but before he stepped out he turned to her.

"I wanted to make sure that . . . that you weren't somebody else. I just needed to make sure I didn't let someone I didn't know on my team . . . Not again."

Carmen looked into his eyes, discovering fatigue and sadness. She didn't nodded in understatement or say anything. She just stare back at him with contempt. He dropped his gaze and stepped off the elevator, disappearing behind closed doors.

Once the doors were shut she backed into the corner, her pulse and breath quickening with a fierce force that pained and scared her. Carmen had thought it was all over—what she had worked so hard for—to be gone in an instant. She couldn't afford another vulnerable instance like this to happen again with Gibbs.


	4. Broken Rules

Carmen remained in the elevator, stilled in the middle of its shaft, contemplating the events that had transpired moments prior. _What the hell had just happened_, she mused. Special Agent Gibbs had requested her presence in the men's bathroom, she assumed because his trust for her had not wavered since the day before and he wanted her to examine his stitches again, however after following him away from the bathroom and into the elevator—a place she would soon become familiarize herself with as Gibbs' office—she became aware of the man's very serious and dangerous intentions.

Agent Gibbs wished to test her, to trap her, to torture her, to violate her, and most importantly, to _know _her. And all in the name of _fear_. It was plainly apparent he feared another _something_ to happen? Despite knowing the man, she was not aware of this particular incident. She did not know of what had happened that made Gibbs so calculate and determined regarding new members on his team. All she knew, because of it, Gibbs was not a trusting man. And because of this incident, she knew obtaining his trust was going to be very difficult.

The man had just left her without so much as an apology. He was a very forlorn and private man. An apology would most likely never come about and therefore her attitude could not reflect the absent of it. If she wanted that man's trust, she was going to have to, more or less, sweep this incident under the rug and must never speak of it again. The importance of being on Agent Gibbs' team was of no compensation. She _needed_ him.

Carmen breathed away her nervous and fears, and pushed the panels of buttons. She straightened herself, smoothing her clothes flat and soothing her hair back, and felt her muscles begin relax and release their stiff disposition. Before the door slid open, she felt how sore her wrist felt and, knowing it would bruise, slid her sleeve down. No one needed to know what had happened between Gibbs and her.

**~:.:~**

The remaining length of the day could not pass quickly enough. Carmen cautiously reentered the bull pen with three suspicious pair of eyes focused on her—luckily, not a fourth. She found Agents McGee, David, and DiNozzo _patiently _awaiting her return, avidly and attentively guarding the elevator, of which housed Gibbs and her, originally. However had Gibbs exited on another floor and she had rode it to the parking garage, of where she paced the circumference of the room, trying to abed her racing thoughts—to no prevail.

And because of the previous events with their beloved 'bossman' Jethro Gibbs as Tony referred to him, Carmen had no desire to share in her experience, and dead lined it to her desk. And, of which event had no luck and the threesome quickly ascended upon her with a fierce curiosity.

"So?" Tony began nonchalantly, slinking causally upon Carmen's desk. "What did Gibbs want?"

Carmen, of whose field of vision was now solely based to Tony's back as he literally sat on her desk, pushed back from her desk allowing the two others pokers to join in.

"What took so long? And where's Gibbs?" McGee piped forward, his head peeking over the wall divider.

"Huh?" Carmen said, trying to display as little interest in her newfound popularity as possible. "Oh, nothing really."

"What?" A hint of skeptical in Tony's voice. "You are lying. Gibbs doesn't just take you into his office for nothing."

"His office is the elevator?" she replied with a hint of frustration, trying to deflect the conversation off of her. What was this team's obsession about wanting to discussion Gibbs all the time? She really, really didn't want to talk about him right now.

"Yes, Probie, he doesn't just take you in his office unless it's not important. . . _So_!? What was so important?"

'_Ever heard of privacy,' _she wanted to say, but resisted the temptation. And instead, replied: "I suppose he just wanted to welcome me to the team . . . officially, in his office. I think that counts to be important."

"That _smells_ un-gibbs-ish like!" Ziva butted in finally.

"That _sounds_ un-gibbs-ish like." Tony corrected, causally Ziva to roll her eyes and walked back to her desk.

"What sounds un-gibbs-ish like, Tony?"

Tony, upon hearing the distinct growl, quickly slipped off Carmen's desk and stood erect as Gibbs swayed into the bull pen, his eyes attracted to the fear Tony was emitting.

"Nothing, boss," he rumbled causally, and scrambled back to his desk. "Carmen and I were just discussing a previous case."

The mention of her name in Tony's pathetic plead made Gibbs glance toward her, catching her eye for a brief moment before she quickly turned away. _Was it a look of reassurance?_ Carmen thought, but then, despite her need of trust, she wasn't going to let them off guilt free. Some kind of line was crossed, and until it was uncrossed, she would give him no relief to his supposed guilt. Contempt would be the new emotion he would meet in every transaction with her.

Ziva's voice suddenly pulled Carmen out of her thoughts, and shifted her attention to the crowding in the middle of the bull pen.

"Any thing for us, Gibbs?"

He sighed, but replied, "Thankfully, none."

Tony groaned, then suddenly cleared his throat upon the dart glare Gibbs shot him. "So, paperwork, then? . . . Yay."

The disappointment in his voice made Gibbs stand from his chair, descend upon Tony, and slap him in the back of the head. He cringed like a little boy scolded. Then relayed, "work, DiNozzo:" before slinking off and disappearing again.

The unyielding laugh of Agent David drowned out the whines of Agent DiNozzo; it was rather comforting as was it to Agent McGee, also.

**~:.:~**

The following, several days passed without a single case—to Tony's writhing disappointment and boredom—ergo everyone else's annoyance. 'It's dangerous to keep an agent cooped up all day,' he relayed most seriously the bull pen occupants (of course, with the absence of Gibbs), and continued to slam his head onto the desk. Of which caused Ziva the most distressing temptation to strangle the man, but somehow—to Carmen's surprise—she restrained herself. These fights between the two agents become something like entertain to McGee, of who—if he could—would heat a bag of pop corn to watch it.

Through the duration of this very long and tiresome endeavor, Carmen managed to tune out the bickering noises and slid right into work, despite it being paperwork—anything, she thought, to act as a distraction from them, especially Gibbs. She even become very friendly with the coroner, Ducky. He proved to be a very brilliant and charming old man. She enjoyed having conversations with him, especially liking his odd ability to recall any memory in extensive detail. The man had an knack for story telling. She liked the man considerably.

Carmen even developed a kind relationship with Abby Scuito—to her surprise. The woman was an odd sort of delight for Carmen. Abby, having a keen sense for popular trends, entertained and amused Carmen. She couldn't help but adore her and her many endearing traits. And even, after a week after the event in the elevator, Carmen felt a nudging itch to ask the woman for advice.

Carmen came around the corner to the laboratory and was met with Abby's very loud music. Actually, she didn't know if it could be considerate music—rather all she thought of it was it was just very loud screaming. She cringed upon hearing it and placed her hand on Abby's shoulder and, upon having a visitor, immediately shut it off.

Abby smiled brightly, "What's up?"

Carmen shrugged nonchalantly and was about to reply, but Abby continued.

"Boy trouble?"

"I—how—something like that," Carmen sighed, yet she was slightly surprised at her ability to anticipate conversation. However—and this thought made her laugh—she couldn't anticipate Gibbs' random 'showing-up' in her lab. The man had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people that unnerved Carmen.

"Well, you've come to the right person," she expressed, and picked up a stool and placed it beside Carmen. "Sit!"

"Boys," she began again. "They are so mischievous. You can never tell what they are thinking . . . well expect when they are staring at your butt, then you know!" Carmen grinned, trying to think of anything else then what had happened; a distraction she desperately needed. "So what seems to be the trouble. Your boyfriend break up with you?"

Carmen had formula a decent lie in her mind. "Kind of."

"You break up with him?"

"No— I just—" This wasn't going to work. Carmen signed in frustration. "I'm just wondering why do men do the things they do." It sounded so juvenile that she felt embarrassed for herself. _God, I am 13 again!? _

"Can you be more specific?" Abby said, taking a slurp from her Caf Pow.

"Why do they hurt us?"

"Were you in abusive relationship?"

And before Carmen could answer, Abby started to worry. "Did someone hurt you? Did he hit you?! Just let me at him and he'll wish he had never been born. I can murder without so much as a trace—"

"Abby! Abby?! Nothing like that," Carmen reassured her with a sad smile. "Emotionally."

"Oh," Abby said relieved, but still sadden. "I think men do the things they do because they are scared."

Gibbs' eyes flashed through Carmen's mind.

"Scared of what?"

"Scared to be hurt." Abby searched Carmen's face for a reaction. "Does my advice help any?"

"Actually it does . . . " It reconfirmed her idea that Gibbs was scared to have _something _happen again. Carmen forced a smile on her face and stood up from the stool. "Thank you, Abby. You lifted my spirits a thousand."

Abby went in for hug and, kindly obliging her, Carmen's sleeve accidentally slide up her arm to reveal an ugly bruise covering her wrist.

Carmen?" Abby said pointing at her wrist, her face expressing deep concern. "What is that?"

"Oh It's nothing," Carmen lied, and laughed it off. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? Carmen? Is everything alright? I mean who did this to you?"

Carmen was already tallying far too lies than she pleased, but was forced to concoct another. The truth in a lie was in the details. "Oh, a man in my apartment complex helped me carry boxes upstairs to my room, and being rather silly on my part, about slipped down the stairs. Lucky," Carmen laughed; "He was there to catch my fall, and grabbed my arm—well, my wrist. You see," she continued, and fully displayed the finger marks; "I, importunely, can bruises very easily."

Abby, seemingly accepting of Carmen's explanation, proceed to express her sympathy for such a thing—that she'd always have bruises after leaving the Dominatrix club. She continued to express she was kinky girl; a detail that Carmen could have done without, and kindly lied that she had to get back to work.

**~:.:~**

"Gear up. We have a dead marine."

A few days later Gibbs announced an end to the dry spell—to everyone relief. Not that everyone wanted to investigate a murder, but that Tony was becoming too insufferable and Abby promised to dispose of him without a trace.

In the days that followed Carmen's incident with Gibbs, he had not said one word to her. Not in passing, nor in causally conversation. And no one thought his rogue behavior was out of the ordinary. She kept hearing, especially from McGee:

"He just takes time. He just has to warm-up to you, first."

"That's Gibbs for you. And he's not bound to change."

Or like the smart remarks he would hear from Tony, of which afterwards Ziva would hit him in the arm:

"You're probably going to have to kill your half-brother while trying to save Gibbs, while trying to get him a cup of black coffee and _not _spill any on him."

Upon Gibbs' instructions, the team grabbed their packs and followed him into the garage, of where they were met by Ducky and Mr. Palmer, of who was staring awkwardly at the car and truck, realizing there wasn't going to be enough room with the addition of Carmen on the team.

"Boss, we can't all fit," McGee expressed.

"I know," Gibbs growled annoyed, having no patience to deal with something as minuscule and trivial as the seating arrangement, and knowing he was going to have to deal with this every time they used the car. Everyone stood in silence. No one wanted to get left behind to do paper work. Then Carmen broke the silence.

"Ducky, is there any room for one more person in the truck?"

"Excellent idea, dear girl. Now, none of us have to get left behind," he remarked, and stared at Tony, of who was inadequately hiding himself behind McGee's body. "Except whoever rides with us on the way back, must sit with the body."

"Tony ride with Ducky," Gibbs stated, and neared the drivers side of the issued vehicle.

"What? Why me?" Tony sulked, then seeing Gibbs eye him, he continued; "I'm kidding. I would love to sit besides a rotting corpse."

"I'll ride with Ducky, then, if Tony doesn't." Carmen pressed, of which notion stopped Gibbs from getting into the driver's seat. He stared a moment at Carmen, studying her expression, however she turned away and began towards the truck. At her defiance again, he simply nodded and got in the car.

"Thank you, Carmen." Tony had jogged over to her and kissed her on the hand. She swiped her hand back and hit him in the arm. "Owe!"

Carmen didn't want to be anywhere near Gibbs and would rather volunteer herself to ride with a dead body instead of him.

**~:.:~**

"Boss, car is registered to a, Lieutenant Lee. Marshall," Tony said, then eyed Ziva as she crawled on her hands and knees along the exploded car. "What are you doing?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Well the car _did_ explode Tony. I'm checking to see if anyone had potted a bomb underneath the car."

"_Planted_ a bomb. Planted," he corrected her.

"Whatever! . . . Bingo!" she sang, and pulled a chuck of metal infused with wires from under the tire well. She stood beside Tony as they began examining the ruined device.

"Well, at least you got the 'bingo' part, right."

"Tony!"

"Yea, boss?"

"Work."

"On it boss."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the younger man. What was he going to do with that man. No matter have many slaps to the back of the head, he was still a child at heart. He sighed and began moving around the car, his eyes glancing at Carmen and Ducky a few meters away, of who were examining the body and discussing something.

"Ducky, could you look at this," Carmen said, kneeling at the feet of the victim, her hand pointing to something particular wedged in the back of his heels. She made certainty before pointing that her sleeve was pushed as far down her arm as possible, an ugly bruise still covering her wrist from Gibbs.

"What is it, my dear?"

"What does this look like to you?" she asked, then watched the doctor narrow and squint his eyes.

"It looks like little black shards of plastic."

"That's was I was thinking, but if it was lodged into his ankles, the backs of the man's heels, and calves, then it must have been underneath his seat. . . . Hmm? Can you see the letters on it. G.B? . . . Gigabit? Possibly the vic's memory card or flash drive."

"Or the killer's. Well, when we get the body back, I will let you know."

"Thanks Ducky," Carmen smiled and kissed the man on his cheek before beginning to walk away, however his voice stopped her.

"Do I get a kiss every time I give you good news?" he asked, his cheeks reddening. Carmen smiled again at him, but didn't reply.

"I think she has a sweet spot for you doctor," Mr. Palmer said, having witnessed the kiss.

"I can only hope," Ducky signed, then shook his head. "Now help me with the body."

Carmen had walked up besides Tony and Ziva, their bickering making her smile. Then suddenly Gibbs was on her other side, sipping his coffee.

"Got anything?" he asked, then took a sip.

"Possibly," Carmen answered him with a simple response, displaying little interest in his presence. However, truly, he made her skin crawl, and her response angered him for some reason.

"We're not going to catch a killer on possibly?!" He yelled, then shifted his body towards her. "Now what do ya got!?"

Carmen was becoming to despised the man. How dare he!? After what he did, he believed he had a right yell at her. And for what, exactly, was he mad at her for? She was about to retaliate against him, but then another voice called her name. She turned to find Ducky waiting besides the truck with Mr. Palmer.

"The body is ready to go. As are we," he said, hopefully obvious of her and Gibb's spat. Carmen sighed with frustration and left Gibbs' side, not offering him another glance before coming to the back of the truck and climbing in.

"Up you go," Ducky said, offering his hand.

Carmen accepted his hand and grabbed the bar with her other hand. She forget about her wrist and her sleeve slid down her arm revealing her purple wrist. Carmen turned around to shut the door when she noticed Gibbs staring at her from a far. But then she realized not her, but her wrist. She looked back at him. He was now looking at her. He was motionless and staring wide eyed at her. She quickly covered her wrist and shut the door.

"Good bye Jethro, see you in the lab," Ducky said, still smiley from Carmen's kiss. The truck started to pull away, but Carmen watched Gibbs follow the truck's back window. She knew he saw her bruise. She knew he realized how forceful he was. She knew he realized how rough he was on her. She knew he felt guilty.

**~:.:~**

This must have been the easiest case Carmen has ever worked. Within a day, they had brought in a suspect who was guilt as ever, except the lack of evidence they had against him couldn't be used. The suspect was Thomas Moore; he was a college professor teaching photography at the community college. He was smart, sly and old. He was overly confident that he was just going to walk away, but Gibbs wouldn't release him.

"What do we know about him?" Gibbs yelled across the bull pen.

"He took a day off work the day of the murder."

"We know he was connected with Lieutenant Lee through drugs: Lee would buy the drugs off-land then sell them to Thomas, of who would in return sell them to his students."

"Lee wanted to stop, however Thomas didn't, so out of betrayal? Rage? Thomas killed him."

"Do we have anything to link him at the scene!" Gibbs yelled again. They had been sitting around repeating everything over and over, but had no physical evidence to convict Moore, but Gibbs had his infamous gut feeling about the guy.

"Find something now!"

Despite their bosses command, there wasn't anything that could be done. The team sat in silence, staring at each other, hoping that the next person would find something, anything! Then Carmen's phone rang—everyone held their breath.

"Agent Wilson?"

Everyone looked to Carmen at the sudden break in silence. She hanged up and without saying anything she walked to the elevators. "I know how we can convict him." Gibbs was the only one to follow her to elevators.

"What do you got?"

And despite her coral with the man, she answered him. "I noticed there were black shards of plastic wedged in the vic's legs with the initials G.B. G.B. Meaning—"

"Gigabyte—I'm not that old," Gibbs nodded. This was the closest he had been to her since the incident in the elevator. He couldn't help but look at her wrist, of which was hidden underneath his white shirt sleeve.

"Right, and I thought it was a flash drive, but hopefully, Ducky will tell us otherwise."

The door opened to the coroner's office, and Carmen walked to Ducky's side. "Doc, what do you have for me?"

"Carmen, you were right."

Ducky had removed all the black pieces from his legs and had pieced into them together like a puzzle. "It's not a flash drive, but a memory card for a camera."

"Thomas is a photography professor at the college . . . if it's his card then it puts him in the victim's car, placing him at the scene of the crime. He possibly dropped it underneath the seat. We have the motive, now we have the evidence to put him away."

"Nice job, Ducky," Gibbs said, then quickly disappeared into the elevator.

"It wasn't me," Ducky corrected, them turned around to meet Gibbs, but found him gone already. "If it wasn't for Carmen—oh, sorry, my dear."

Carmen forced a smile, grabbed the pictures from his desk, and quickly kissed Ducky on the cheek before disappearing into the elevator.

"I love my job," he sang.

**~:.:~**

Carmen and Gibbs reappeared and walked towards the interrogation room. Tony, Ziva, and McGee were quick on their heels. The two stopped just before the door that obtained Thomas Moore, and Carmen went to hand the photos and evidence to Gibbs, but he didn't take them.

"You coming?"

It was the first time Carmen had seen a little glint of excitement in his eyes, or warmth towards her. Before she followed Gibbs into the interrogation room, she spied Tony, Ziva and McGee scrambling in the other room. This was the first time since transferring here she finally would get some action.

"Well, well, well," Thomas Moore sang when Gibbs came through the door. "You've finally obtained evidence or just some theories?" Then he eyed Carmen as she stepped out from behind Gibbs. "Bringing in a woman to do a man's job, eh? What? Is she going to cute me to death?" He smirk, but it quickly faded.

"Actually we do," Carmen begin, seating herself across the man as Gibbs leaned against the wall behind her. "Do you like cameras, Mr. Moore?"

"Well, of course I do," he spat matter-a-factly; as if she was stupid for even asking. "I'm a professor of photography!"

"Well," Carmen smiled; "then you are perfectly aware that all memory cards are unique and distinct to its camera."

Thomas Moore began to shift nervously, his eyes flickering between Carmen and his bag that rested in the chair beside him.

"Ya? So What is your point!"

"Mr. Moore, we found shards of little blacks pieces in the Lieutenant Lee's calves, ankles, and heels. And after our very dedicated lab-techs pieced back all the hundreds of little pieces, do you know what they discovered, Mr. Moore? I'm guessing from the way you keep eyeing your pack, you know exactly what I speak of."

The man visibly swallowed, his Adam apple bobbling up and down as Carmen remained staring at him. He kept silence.

"The thing to which I speak of," Carmen continued; "was mostly likely dropped on the floor of Lieutenant Lee's vehicle when—"

"That's specialization! You have no right to detain me! You can't build a case on possibly"

Gibbs raised his brow. _She likes to antagonized and toy with the suspects._

"No, you're right, of course, Mr. Moore. Not unless I have substantial evidence to support my specializations. So, would you be kindly enough to oblige me, and get me your camera you're hiding in your pack besides you. Because I have a feeling that it's without it's memory card."

"You can't touch it!" he squealed; "without a warrant, and you don't got one, do ya."

Carmen didn't flinch a muscle. She simply smiled at the man and pulled a piece of paper out, and slide it across the table.

"What's this?" He said, and looked down at the paper.

"The warrant you wanted."

The man panicked and jumped up from the table and ran for the door. He opened and was surprised to see the door being blocked by Tony.

"You are under arrest for the murder of lieutenant Lee Marshall. . . . And other thing."

"What!?"

"Running never looks good in front a jury!" Tony tugged him out of the room, but before he could, Carmen stopped them.

"Besides," she continued, her hands opening the compartment that held his memory card; "I didn't need one; your pack was in plain sight, and this will put you away for the rest of your life."

Carmen nodded, and then Tony tugged the man out of the doorway. She sighed, and turned around, finding Gibbs still leaning along the wall and staring at her, his expression of guilt unnerving her.

"Carmen, I—"

"Don't Gibbs," she interrupted him, knowing where he was going with this. She had seen his remorse in the truck as they pulled away. She didn't want this. She watched him retract slightly away. "Don't break your rules for me."


	5. Gibbs 101

Several weeks passed without another word exchanged between Carmen and Gibbs apart from the occasional _forced_ conversation related with work. Carmen, despite Gibbs' cold front, naturally slid into rhythm on his team. And his team was very inviting to her unexpected presence. Actually her presence really had no profound effect—or so they made her to believe. She regularly went to dinner with McGee and Ziva, and sometimes with Tony—when he wasn't 'always' out with a lady friend. And Abby actually kept her promise of showing Carmen the tattoo parlor to where she had gotten many of hers. She barely escaped with her natural skin. And her relationship with Ducky had taken a strange turn. She felt herself becoming warm for the man—this kind-of genuine care and trust she was beginning to behold for him.

Special Agent Gibbs held no such respect from Carmen. She knew him—his personality, his persona, his struggles, his everything. However her very presence had seemingly altered him. She didn't know _how_, she didn't know _why_, but it often pressed on her mind. Before requesting transference to NCIS, Carmen had learned everything about the man that was humanly possible; his habits, his late family, his regrets, his odd attraction for red-headed women. However this aggression that stood between them was beginning to impede her ability to manipulate Gibbs. Carmen was going to have to change her approach and strategy regarding the man and his precise information that had the potential to unlock her mother's demise.

It might be difficult for her to admit, but Carmen needed Gibbs—despite the man's very infamous and unyielding behavior. He was the proverbial key to unlocking her Pandora's box.

**~:.:~**

**8:00 p.m. **

McGee groaned with irritation and fatigue as he crouched between some bushes that shrouded the outside of his co-worker's house, his concentration having been diverted from the interior of the house to his now soppy wet and muddied jeans. He cursed underneath his breath after Tony had "accidentally" stepped on his foot causing McGee to lose his balance and fall backwards into a puddle of mud and water. He growled and ascended upon Tony, unleashing not only his frustration regarding this miserable circumstance, but the purpose of spying on their co-worker's house.

"Dang it!" McGee cursed, and maneuvered away from the mud puddle. "These were my new jeans, and now they're ruined. Thanks a lot, Tony!?"

"Oh, stop your complaining, McMucky!" Tony hissed back, and continued to ignore the sulking man behind him. "You heard what they said. And I am not going to miss _it_! There's a greater objective ahead that trumps your caterwauling. Now shush it."

McGee rolled his eyes, but nevertheless joined Tony by the window seal again, accepting defeat and the unyielding curiosity he felt shared with his friend. He sighed:

"So, when do you think they are going to do _it_?"

"I don't know," he whispered, crouching lower and deeper within the bushes; "but I want to be there when _it_ happens."

**~:.:~**

**3 hours earlier **

"What's wrong with you?" Gibbs inquired from Ziva as he watched her fiddle with a strand of hair like an adolescent little girl. He plopped down in his chair and cast his gaze over the cup of his coffee at her.

She unraveled a strand of hair from her finger, and sighed, "Vance won't let us leave. He said something about a new policy?"

"What knew policy?" he asked Ziva, but turned to the younger man sitting across from his desk. "McGee?"

"It states that no single member of a team can leave unless collectively left as a whole."

"Meaning . . . ?" Gibbs wanted the short answer.

"Meaning none of us can leave until Tony gets back from lock up, and that takes forever!" puffed Ziva.

"Go home," Gibbs said, already ascending towards the director's office. "I'll take care of Vance."

Gibbs stormed by Vance's bumbling assistant and, without the decency to forewarn him of his presence, crossed into his office. Gibbs found him speaking with someone on the phone, and upon his entrance excused himself and ended his conversation. His expression was less than amused or inviting, however Gibbs wouldn't allow Vance to exert control over his team. First, he pushed Carmen into his lap, and now he was enforcing new policies? Gibbs wasn't going to have it.

"And what do I know this pleasure?" Vance mocked, and sighed when Gibbs rolled his eyes. Gibbs was certainly in no mood for their habitual charade, and desired to cut right to the chase.

"What's this new policy I keep hearing about?"

Vance sighed again; exhaustion was seeping into his bones, and he didn't have to energy to bicker politics with this man. "It's nothing. Just a test run."

"Test run for what?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Vance lashed out, ending the conversation before it began. Gibbs simply rolled his eyes and stalked away.

**~:.:~**

"So, Carmen?" Abby sang upon exciting the elevator, and met Carmen at her desk. "You're still up for _it_ tonight, right?"

A brief moment of hesitation graced Carmen's face—knowing she was under Tony's sneaky and curious gaze from beyond her desk—before she smiled, and replied; with an overbearing confidence that was sure to reach all prying ears of the bull pen:

"Definitely. Wouldn't miss _it_ for anything."

With a devilish smirk, Abby winked at Carmen before turning her attention to Ziva—fully aware of two masculine pairs of eyes on her as she came to stand before her desk. Abby couldn't help but grin as Tony and McGee conspicuously spied on their conversation.

"You still in, too?" Abby purred with twinkling eyes. "It'll be a night you'll never forget."

"Of course," Ziva purred back; the puppy eyes of DiNozzo making her volatile with pleasure. What she wouldn't do to torture that man, she mused.

Having carefully witnessed the trio's flighty and devious conversation about 'it' and no longer able to contain his boyish curiosity, Tony suddenly sprung from his desk and confronted them.

"What are _you _in on?" he muttered to Ziva, then quickly spun to Carmen. "And what is _it_, that you wouldn't miss for anything?" He was clearly becoming exhausted from thinking too much and not conceiving an idea. "What could possibly three young and _single_ ladies do, together, on a Friday tonight? . . . Hmm. . . . Oh gawd, please, tell me. Please!"

McGee rolled his eyes at Tony when he knelt before Abby and begged her compliance. "If they didn't tell us about it, then they obviously don't want us to know."

McGee caught Carmen smiling at him before Abby swooned and flocked before him, ignoring the pleading man on the floor.

"Ah, thank you, McGee," she smiled, and hugged him.

"Well I'm off," intervened Ziva, cautiously stepping around the now crying man. "Before it gets any more . . . Strange." She smiled, and winked (making quite sure it was visible to both men before leaving). "I'll see you later tonight."

Tony managed to pull himself up from the floor, overdramatically sniffing his nose. "You know what secrets do to my health."

Without offering an inkling of truth to Tony, Abby turned to Carmen.

"Well, see you later tonight. My house, 8 O'clock. Feel free to bring alcohol. It's going to be a _very, very_," she deliberately turned to Tony; _"long night_." She flashed him a coy smile, wished McGee a goodnight with another wink, and finally left.

"Why do you people do this to us?"

"You people?" mocked Carmen, smiling, and watched Tony slink back to his desk.

"Women. Why must they torture us . . . with their little mind games? . . . It's exhausting. "

"Always one for dramatics, aren't we Tony? No matter how much sympathy you try to concoct, my lips are sealed. I'm not going to tell you what we are doing tonight nor will I tell you what _it_ is."

"What _it _is, what?"

This new, but very distinct voice startled Carmen, and caused her to whip around to found Gibbs standing right between her, maliciously taking a sip of coffee, his eyes narrowed on her. The sudden abruption of his presence shocked Carmen into silence and _unfortunately_, she mused, impedance. Luckily, McGee quickly intervened.

"Boss? Isn't that like your forth cup in an hour?" McGee asked, watching the tense exchange between him and Carmen.

Gibbs ignored the younger man and continued to leered down upon Carmen. Inches from her person, he spied a slight twitch in her bottom lip, conscientiously aware of the woman's inner struggle to not bit her lip. He found it strange how fascinated he had become watching this. It gave him a perverse satisfaction that he was the only person to cause this conflict in this woman. However, even he was aware of how long he had been standing this close to the woman, took a sip, and then returned to his desk. But not before hearing a breath of relief escape her lips.

Carmen returned to her desk, and quickly packed her things before leaving the bull pen, however Tony impeded her ability to escape by blocking her way.

"So," he sang, "about tonight? What's going down that's so secretive? Huh? Perhaps, some experimentation?"

His crack about a sexually natured event caught both McGee's and Gibbs' attention. Tony, thinking about what that would entail, laughed out loud; however it attracted the hawk.

"Tony."

"Yea, boss?"

"Go home."

"Yes, boss!"

Much like a whipped dog, Tony obeyed his master and quickly left followed shortly by Carmen as she smiled to herself walking towards the elevator.

Gibbs found himself unable to look away, and followed Carmen with his eyes. Just before the doors shut, he caught a curious glimpse of a smirk play across her lips. What is she playing at? he thought.

**~:.:~**

**Three hours later at 8:00 p.m. outside Abby's house. **

"Tony, I don't think this was such a good idea," whispered McGee harshly at Tony's crouched figure, now standing erect behind him.

"McFret, would you stop worrying," Tony shot back, angling himself in a better position to see through the window. "Its not like we are going to get in trouble."

McGee cleared his throat.

"Shhh," hushed Tony, still not bothering to acknowledge McGee behind him. "Do you want them to hear us? I am not missing this!"

"Um, Tony, I don't think that is helping our situation."

"Situation? What situation?"

Giving McGee the 'so attention' he was whining for, Tony finally turned around to address the spoil-sport. However, upon discovering 'the situation' McGee had been referring to, he stood immediately.

"Oh, _that_ situation."

**~:.:~**

Three potent knocks brought Abby bouncing to her front door, and when she opened the door, she could not have feasted her eyes on a more delicious sight; Tony and McGee handcuffed, a police officer standing between the pair.

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but I found these two men _lurking_ outside your window, _spying_ on you. They claim to know you."

"We do know her!" spat Tony, visibly irritable and annoyed. He turned to Abby excepting confirmation except he was met with another devious smirk.

"Oh ladies, will you join me at the front door," she sang beyond her. "We have some _unexpected _visitors."

Ziva, Carmen, and someone whom Tony did not know came laughing to the door, and dressed in an attire that made his legs weak. Somehow, he managed to make words between hyperventilating.

"Pajamas shorts? An-and tank tops? You-your having a slumber party. I-how could you?"

"Do you know these men?" stated the police officer again after tugging on Tony's handcuffs behind his back, jerking him out of his trance. Tony suddenly saw a very familiar little twinkle in Abby's eye. She smiled and turned to women behind her.

"Ladies, do we know who these men are? They were caught spying on us."

Carmen ceased smiling and turned her gaze over Tony. A brief moment of solemn silence passed between the pair before Carmen turned to the police officer, and very seriously, expressed:

"I have never seen these men in my life."

"Carmen?" It was McGee who finally put forth concern.

"What!?" spat Tony with disbelief.

The eruption of laughter and giggles behind were contagious, and Abby couldn't help but to continue to lay it on thick.

"Officer, take them away! It'll teach _you_," she sang directly at Tony; "for spying on us! Sorry McFollower, but have fun spending the night in county together."

"Abby! Come on!" Tony shrieked, but the police officer yanked him and McGee towards the police car. "You set us up, didn't you? Oh, you are toast, Abby Suito! Ziva you're so dead. And Carmen, you most of all. You've not known a vengeance like—"

His threat was bitten off when the police officer shoved Tony into the backseat and slammed the door. Through the window, Tony was cursing and thrashing; a scene which was hilarious to the girls.

"Well, ladies, that was fun," Abby purred and shut her front door. "I'll have to call and personally thank Officer Daniel for coming over so late in the night."

"What?" Ziva said, her eyes widening upon the realization that Abby had really set their friends up. "You called that officer here? Tonight?"

"Yep. I knew Tony and McGee would spy on us. And it wouldn't have been as much fun if _we_ caught them. So," Abby jumped on her couch; "what do we do now?"

**~:.:~**

"I am going to kill Abby!" muttered Tony as he paced inside his jail cell.

"You have to admit, it was a pretty good prank," McGee said sitting on a bench along the wall. His amusement was more prominent than his temper. As Tony vented his anger, McGee couldn't help but envision Abby and the way she had been dressed this evening. She hadn't been wearing her usually long, grandma nightgown, but instead a slim-fitting shirt and pants. Even her bunny slippers had been endearing to him.

"Oh shut it, McGee. How can you side with the enemy?

"I didn't realize we were at war, Toe-knee."

McGee's witty remark went right over Tony's head. "I'm going to get them back."

"Which ones?"

"All of them. Abby. Ziva. And Carmen. Especially, Carmen."

"Why Carmen? It was Abby's idea."

Although McGee thought Tony's plan of revenge was infantile, he did not want him getting carried away. The last thing they all needed was Gibbs becoming aware of this whole situation.

"She needs to learn to respect for her senior agents."

"Well, whatever," McGee replied; "But I won't have any part in it."

"Won't have any part in what?"

The fear that surged in McGee's chest held him still. _Oh no. _

"McGee, Tony. Let's go. Now!"

**~:.:~**

Another three but even harder knocks brought Abby bouncing to her door again. Excepting to meet a ferocious Tony, Abby opened her door with a devilish smile. However the body she met was one she did not except.

"Gibbs!?"

Hearing Abby squeal 'Gibbs' caused both Carmen and Ziva to squirm from their positions on the floor. They managed to stand erect before Gibbs surpassed Abby in the doorway followed closely behind McGee and a flaring Tony. Gibbs stopped short upon seeing his two female co-workers dressed in an attire he had never seen before. However he could not keep his eyes from sweeping across Carmen's body, the amount of bare skin was striking. This was wholly opposite of what he excepted from this woman. Perhaps, she was a complete mystery to him; as she had two different sides. This notation struck his curiosity.

Noting the length he had been gazing over Carmen, Gibbs quickly shifted his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Does someone want to explain to me, why I got a phone call, at ten O'clock at night, from my two grown, adult employees, telling me that my other three grown, adult employees called the cops on them."

"Gibbs—"

"No, no," Gibbs chided Abby, of who retreated behind McGee. "I haven't finished yet."

"So I get this call from a, Officer Daniel, of who confesses to me that this was just some childish prank. . . . Apparently, I work with some peeping-toms and a bunch of clowns."

Abby appeared from behind McGee. "But it's all Tony's and McGee. They were spying on us through my window."

"Something I care which not to know. However my part in all this could have been non! If only you simply said you knew them."

"But—"

"I don't care whose fault it is. It's both of yours faults. Once Monday comes you'll wish you had never left work this evening. Do I make myself clear?"

Five very inaudibly 'yes, sirs' sounded before Gibbs stormed out of Abby's house. No sooner than he stepped out of the house did the banter begin.

"Tattletale!"

"Gremlin!"

"Spoilsport!

"You have it coming. All of you," Tony spat. "See you on Monday. I'd watch my back if I were you."

"I'd watch yours!" Abby spat back and quickly slammed the door on Tony's ass.

"Owe!"

The room filled with silence. The three women were visibly quivering with nervous. Then suddenly a presence of which they had forgotten about suddenly piped up.

"Wow, I could have eaten the sexual tension with a slice of ham and cheese."

Carmen, Ziva, and Abby turned around to the body still sitting on the couch, just staring back with giddy excitement.

"I thought that Gibbs guy was going to tear into you like a wild beast. . . . I would have let him."

**~:.:~**

"Give me a psychopath any day; Gibbs scares the hell out of me," Carmen forcefully joked, trying to relieve the tension in her chest. The proximity he had enclosed between them, including earlier in the evening at work, continued to confuse to her. For the pass several weeks, he had been eliciting such distance and coldness, that this sudden enclosure was puzzling. What was going on between them.

"What? Gibbs?" Abby laughed. "Gibbs couldn't hurt a fly."

Ziva shot her a look of disbelief.

"Okay, fine, he _could, _but he would never hurt me at least." Abby grabbed the frosting container and sat down on the couch, smiling. "Because we are on the subject of Gibbs, lets talk more about him."

Abby's friend, Brittany, suddenly had a clapping fit and squirmed like a little girl.

"You only want to talk about him because you have thing for him." Abby smiled, and licked the frosting off her finger.

"And you don't?" Brittany asked incredulously.

Abby, Carmen and Ziva shook their heads.

"Gibbs is like a father to me," Abby stopped and thought about Gibbs with a little smirk on her face. "Although . . . I love Gibbs' salt and peppery hair, and his sexy body."

"ABBY!" Ziva was shocked, and threw a pillow in Abby direction.

"What? All I said is he has nice hair. That's innocent, is it not?"

Ziva shook her head.

"Well, I like his body," Brittany sang dreamily, envisioning the man as if he stood before her. "Tall, muscular, and older. Let us not forget experienced. He must know _things_. Also, he can back da ass up."

"You like Gibbs for his ass?"

The level of maturity this slumber party had fallen was inviting. Carmen found herself quite taken with this stress-free environment and welcomed it. And the subject of which had dominated conversation was certainly informative. For some reason they could not get off the subject of Gibbs.

"So, what do you like about him Ziva?" Abby asked finishing the frosting container.

"Although, I certainly, do not, have a 'crush' on him, I do admire his honesty, his loyalty, and his direct approach. And he never lies—yes, I very much like that quality about him."

"Boo!" chided Abby.

"Boo?" repeated Ziva confused. "What is boo? Were you trying to scare me? I'm afraid it did not work."

Ziva's ignorance regarding American culture was ever endearing, however Abby giggled at her. "You like Gibbs for his personality? That's totally lame."

"Well, what do you like about him then?"

"Hmm," Abby smirked with a little twinkle in her eye. "I bet he gives it rough!"

"ABBY!" It was Carmen's turn to throw a pillow at Abby.

"What?"

"That is so way wrong!" Ziva said; "on so many levels."

"What do you like about him, then?" Abby expressed to Carmen.

"Well. . . I don't know?" Her impedance to answer this question was infantile, and very revealing. "I-I haven't known him long."

"Well, within the time you've known him, what attracts you to him?" Abby was becoming as obsessed with Gibbs as her friend, Brittany.

"I'm _not _attracted to him," Carmen lied, adverting her gaze to the floor. Or am I? Carmen thought about all the encounters she had had with him. She had practically seen him naked. He did have a nice body . . . nice lips . . . eyes. Carmen started to drift away, but Carmen could never admit that to them.

"Carmen?"

"I like his eyes," she quickly confessed. "Um, although he can stare you down with a cold stare, he has the softest blue eyes I've ever seen."

"Aww. That is so romantic!" Brittany pouted.

As the hours passed by, Gibbs started to fade away. But Carmen wasn't listening after that. She started thinking about the way Gibbs would look at her. Or act around her. About the way he'd sneak a glance at her . . . but she shrugged that thought away. He was probably only looking because of what she was wearing. She had to admit that he was handsome. Older. But when did that ever stop her. Not with one of her college professors. Sexy, but older.

Carmen stopped thinking about Gibbs the moment she left Abby's house the next morning. It wasn't until Monday that she realized what she and everyone else said about Gibbs was going to be used as blackmail. Carmen, Abby and Ziva were proverbial toast.


	6. Burnt Toast

Friday's night slumber party was one Carmen was never going to forget. Despite the evening's unfortunate events that lead Gibbs to blow down Abby's door like the big bad wolf and gobble up not only three little piggies but five, everything else after that was a blur. A mixture of alcohol and Gibbs contented the four women into a hazy hangover. Compared to Friday, the weekend was uneventful. However Monday was something beyond her comprehension.

**~:.:~**

The elevator doors opened, and Carmen discovered Tony hovering near by.

"You're toast, smiley!" he threatened with a devious smirk, and trailed closely behind her as she ascended towards the bull pen.

"Tony, how many people exited that elevator before it turned out to be me? And _have you _been waiting for me?"

"What? No, of course not! And only six people have shot me strange looks, but that doesn't matter."

"Riiiiiight," Carmen sang, and rolled her eyes. She entered the empty bull pen and sat down at her desk, continuing to ignore Tony.

"Well, you are!" he threatened again, then realized what he had said made no sense. "Toast. You are toast."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Tony."

Tony smirked, regaining his confidence again, and slipped a little black device from his suit pocket. "Well, then. Allow me to refresh your memory."

_"Gibbs is like a father to me." _

Immediately recognizing not only that distinct voice but the circumstance in which that phrase was uttered, Carmen sprung from her desk and confronted Tony. She suddenly understood his threats; fear instantly flooding her chest. But he did not stop there.

"_Although . . . I love Gibbs' salt and peppery hair, and his sexy body."_

_"ABBY!" _*_giggling sounds and incoherent banter*_

_"What? All I said is he has nice hair. That's innocent, is it not?"_

_"Well, I like his body. Tall, muscular, and older. Let us not forget experienced. He must know things. Also, he can back dat ass up." _

Then Carmen heard her own voice, _"You like Gibbs for his ass?"_

Panic surged through her body. The consequences of this recording would be disastrous; especially, if Gibbs ever became aware of the inappropriate things that was said about him. This panic caused her to lunge toward Tony, and steal the recorder from him, but he was quicker than she.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded, but he remained silent. "Tony, I swear—"

"I think you are in no position to be making threats, Carmen," Tony interrupted, and continued to ignore her pleads. He simply straightened his suit and turned the volume up on the recorder.

_"So, what do you like about him Ziva?" _

_"Although, I certainly, do not, have a 'crush' on him, I do admire his honesty, his loyalty, and his direct approach. And he never lies—yes, I very much like that quality about him." _

_"Boo!" _

_"Boo? What is boo? Were you trying to scare me? I'm afraid it did not work." _

Carmen had no choice but to listen, fully aware of her impending confession about to be repeated. This was a nightmare.

"_You like Gibbs for his personality? That's totally lame."_

_"Well, what do you like about him then?" _

"_Hmm, I bet he gives it rough!"_

_"ABBY!" _

The recording stopped. "So, Abby's a bad girl, uh? I knew it."

"I don't care what Vance says! This is my team—"

The new and forceful tone that thundered across the room adverted both Carmen's and Tony's attention to Gibbs leaving Vance's office, screaming to himself as he strolled down to stairs. His ensuing presence to the bull pen made Tony's threat of blackmail ever so apparent to Carmen. What the fuck was she going to do!?

"For God's sakes, Tony!? Turn it off!" pleaded Carmen. "You're being a child."

With the mention of her insult, the volume of the recorder increased.

_"What do you like about him, then?"_

"Tony!?" she shrieked having one last attempt to snatch the thing from his hands. Carmen turned to find Gibbs on the last step, turning to make his around the divider wall. She lowered her voice, and with a hushed tone, she whispered:

"Please. Tony."

She finally surrendered and submitted to his will. Tony spied Gibbs just about the corner when he suddenly demanded, "You have to do what ever I say!"

"What? No!"

_"Well. . . I don't know. I-I haven't known him long," _Carmen heard her voice again, and quickly submitted.

"Okay! Fine, I'll do what ever you want!"

Upon relief and confirmation (when the recorder stopped playing), Carmen pushed herself away from Tony.

"Do what ever who wants?"

As always, Gibbs made his entrance on the end of their conversation, unfortunately catching the very controversial nature of their 'black mail' discussion. Carmen felt the fear bubbling up inside her as Tony stepped forward to offer him an explanation.

"I was just telling Carmen, here, boss," And although he was informing Gibbs, his gaze fell upon Carmen. "That she can't just do want ever she wants without facing the consequences."

Despite Tony's very serious intentions, Carmen couldn't help but roll her eyes. Gibbs had been rounding his desk, his back not facing the pair when Carmen and Tony held a mute battle of words and fists.

"_Revenge is a bitch, isn't it," _Tony mouthed, to which Carmen replied, "_You're acting like a little bitch._"

The pair became lost in a their little bicker battle and forgot about the third presence.

Tony's explanation was strange, and caused Gibbs to halt_. She can't just do want ever she wants without facing the consequences? _he repeated in his mind. He frowned, and turned around, becoming completely aware of the tension elicited from the two.

"Have I missed something?"

The insinuation in his voice held both Carmen and Tony still. What was he referring to? panicked Carmen. Gibbs continued to leer over the pair until his question was answered, however neither one of them knew how to answer him. Luckily, Ziva entered into the bullpen and interrupted the mounting tension.

"What's down?" she said.

Tony puffed out a frustrated breath of air. "You're confusing the expressions 'what's up' and 'what's going down,' Zee-Va."

"Geez," she said; "someone has their claws out this morning." Then she realized why he was so uptight. "Still upset about Friday? Huh?" She continued to giggle until she cast her gaze over Gibbs, whose expression was stern and he certainly was not laughing.

Silence filled the bull pen again.

Gibbs' orbs fell upon Carmen's again. However her gaze was cast at the floor, obviously avoiding his stare. He studied hers and Tony's behavior, the pair shifting nervous on their feet beside each other.

"Is there something going on between you two?"

Carmen's head shot up, and finally met Gibbs' stare. He was solely looking at her. Just her. Not Tony. Why? Is this what he thought of her? That she was having an affair with Tony!?

"What? No! Of course! . . . Gawd no!"

"What? Like you wouldn't love having a piece of me," Tony piped in.

"Tony!?"

"Oh, come on sweetie," Tony said, and tried to slip his arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged him away.

Carmen's eyes widened with disbelief. "Why are you doing this!?"

"Carmen, we can't keep lying," he said, and lowered his voice to a sensual whisper. He pulled her body close, and whispered to her: "You must do what I say or else Friday's night's slumber party were become known to everyone; especially Gibbs."

"Lying about what!" thundered Gibbs' voice from beyond Tony's ill-timed hug.

"Gibbs—" Carmen tried to plead.

"If there is something going on between the two of you?" Gibbs interrupted, staring intensely at Carmen. "Then I need to know about it!"

Carmen stopped and looked to Gibbs. Why was he so upset with her and not Tony?

"Gibbs, I-there—"

"What Carmen is having such a hard expressing is," Tony interrupted, and wrapped an arm around her waist. "That we've be seeing each other, aren't we sweets?"

"I-no-Tony?"

Why couldn't she make words? Why couldn't she defend herself? Why did she care so much about what Gibbs thought of her? What was stopping her from telling the truth. The truth! It was picking between a fake relationship with Tony or having the actual truth revealed from Tony's recorder. She was backed into a corner and she didn't like it.

"I-yes-we-are," she declared, tears threatening to spill. She couldn't bring herself to look up at Gibbs. She bit her cheek. She slipped from Tony's grasp, but not before jabbing her elbow into Tony's side and quickly exited the bull pen.

"Ouch!" squealed Tony, and almost dropped to the floor. He laughed, "That's just a little game we enjoy playing together. Who can drop the other one first."

Gibbs followed Carmen with his eyes. His expression remained stern however his temper was beginning to boil. He turned his gaze over Tony, but just then McGee walked in and halted.

"Why is Tony on the floor, boss?" Then it hit him. "Boss you didn't? You hit—"

Gibbs ignored him, and stormed away. "Tony! Follow! Now!"


	7. Revenge Burns

Having witnessed the of display of juvenile behavior exchanged between Carmen and Tony in the bullpen and having not an idea 'what the hell was going on,' Gibbs felt that familiar prickly-feeling to discover the truth. Whatever the cost may be; although, he couldn't understand why he even felt this impassioned about the possibility that Carmen was having an affair with Tony. But all he knew was the idea sickened him.

Gibbs stormed to the elevators and punched the button with his fist. He could feel the rage boiling inside him, yet he managed to control himself as Tony managed to waddle and join him in the elevator—beads of sweat already dripping down his temples. The younger man's apprehension was clearly evident, but Gibbs desired more. The two of them were not leaving this elevator until the truth was spilled.

Having hit a random floor number, Gibbs flipped the emergency switch and brought the lift to an abrupt halt in its shaft. The lift blacken momentarily before the emergency lights flashed on and the room was engulfed in silence—apart from DiNozzo's wheezing from Carmen's surprise jab in his side. Gaining the stringent atmosphere he favored, Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest and leaned backwards against the railing, calming awaiting Tony's explanation—however he was not so easily intimidated, and decided avoiding the subject all-together was best for his personal-survival.

"She packs a good punch," Tony guffawed, daring to mimic Gibbs' stature, and crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Never would have expected that from her. . . . But then again she _was_ a marine."

"DiNozzo."

"Gosh, you know, it's been quite some time since I was called into the principle's office. New paint job?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs repeated sterner.

"Is there s-something you would like to discuss with me, boss?"

Tony's heart was pounding wildly. He couldn't actually divulge the truth; especially that which concerned the recording of Abby's slumber party. He had had no 'actual' intention of sharing the recording with anyone. He had just thought he could blackmail Carmen, Ziva, and Abby into doing things for him. But now that he was locked in a 5x5 container with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, lying wasn't fathomable. Not if death was a consequence. What other lie could he produce to cover everyone's asses, including his own?

Gibbs noted the nervous quiver in the younger man's voice. His patience was wearing dangerously thin with these silly charades, however Gibbs excepted Tony to begin explaining; he will not ask. . . . . Once more Gibbs did not reply. He sighed and repositioned himself against the wall; a tactic to demonstrate to a suspect that Gibbs had 'all the time in the world' and 'it was only a matter of time.' As excepted, Tony cleared his throat nervously and shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet—his avoidance tactic withering away. It was only a matter of time, Gibbs thought again.

Gibbs noted the shiny glisten collecting on Tony's forehead and temples. "Is it hot in here, DiNozzo? Or is it just you?"

Tony stiffed a laugh, and pulled at his collar. "Boss—"

"Yes, Tony?" mocked Gibbs in a 'playful' voice. "Is there something you would like to _tell_ me?"

"No," Tony quickly replied. "I-I was just going to compliment you on your tie today. It's . . . ravishing."

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausting easily from these silly games. What was most annoying was the fact that he wasn't even wearing a tie.

"Tony!"

"She put me up to it!" Tony finally squealed, his hands clamping around his mouth. _Think DiNozzo! Think! _

"Put you what to what?" Gibbs spat, but quickly side-stepped that claim. "I don't care what it was she 'apparently' put you up to, but I'm particularly interested in your _interest _with Carmen Wilson." Gibbs had inched his way towards Tony, and now had him trapped between himself and the corner like a caged animal. However strong his urge was to pummel the answer from Tony, Gibbs' voice softened:

"Tony, what is rule number twelve?"

Instantly recognizing Gibbs' rule, Tony stiffened in place. Perhaps, he thought, blackmailing Carmen wasn't such a good idea after all. Gibbs clearly felt impassioned against breaking his rules.

"Never date a coworker," answered Tony obediently

"And are you doing just that? Breaking my rules?"

"I wouldn't say breaking," Tony pleaded with a nervous chuckle, feeling the older man's breath on his face. "Perhaps, more like bending."

"Tony," Gibbs began softly.

The quiet calamity in Gibb's voice made Tony even more fearful. It was like the calm right before the storm.

"Are you in a relationship with Carmen Wilson?"

"Relationship is a funny word," Tony laughed awkwardly. "More like . . . " Tony couldn't think of a word to describe what was between him and Carmen. "Rivalry."

"DiNozzo answer my question!" Gibbs suddenly snapped. "Are you in a relationship with Carmen Wilson!"

"Why does it matter!" Tony shot back; a sudden anger walloping up inside him, and of which outburst caused Gibbs to retract from him. "What does it matter? You let McGee and Abby date without difficulty. And if it's love, it's love. Who are _you_ to decide who I can and can not date? And we all sure as hell know that you were in love Jenny—a co-worker! And your partner. And your boss. I won't let a hypocrite lecture me about the merits of love. Not after what I've been through with Jeanne."

Silence proceeded Tony's outburst. Tony truly agreed with his claims and accusations however he never meant to express or use it against Gibbs. He felt guilty immediately afterwards yet adrenaline was still surging through his veins, and he wanted an explanation. He watched the old man's feature soften to a point where he knew all the rage had drained from his body. He was defeated, and surrendered.

"You're right about one thing, DiNozzo. I _was_ in love with Jenny, my _partner. _But our love put us both in jeopardy, and then I ended it. If something would have happened to her, because of me? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. But who I am? To educate a grown man about who he can and can not love? If there is one thing I can't teach you, it is how to cope with the guilt that proceeds after every, single decision you will ever make. And when that time comes to make that decision, of who to protect and not protect, it will tear at you everyday for the rest of your life. It will never let you forget . . . And you will never let you forgive yourself. . . . So Tony, if you see fault with the mistakes I've learned from, than by all means reject them. . . . If Carmen and you are in love . . . so be it."

Tony had never witnessed such emotion displayed from his boss before. The guilt that was now suffocating him was immense and profound. He felt like a fool. He watched Gibbs flip the switch—to which resumed the lift into motion—and walk off the elevator without saying another word. Gibbs was only trying to watch his back and Tony betrayed him. And for what? To get back at Carmen, Ziva, and Abby? It wasn't worth Gibbs' guidance.

**~:.:~**

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Fear began to swell-up inside Carmen's chest as she paced the area outside the parking garage elevator. The parameters of this whole ordeal was just fucked up and stupid. How in the hell had things came to this? Blackmail? Her hatred for Tony was increasing profoundly. The little fucker was going to ruin everything she had worked for. Gibbs was already looking for some excuse to throw her off his team, and Tony was providing the ammunition. This was the most dysfunctional team she had ever worked with. She could feel her goals slipping away.

Several minutes later Ziva emerged from the elevator, and confronted her. She couldn't hide the slight quiver in her voice.

"So, um . . . You and Tony are seeing each other?"

"What? No," Carmen denounced; "of course not. Tony was just a being an idiot."

Ziva released a breath. "Good. I- thought-good. . . . But why did Tony tell Gibbs you were together?

"He was trying to blackmail me."

"What!?"

"No, it-it's not that serious—criminating wise. Tony was trying to get back at us for our prank against him and McGee. Remember?"

"Yes, I quite remember," Ziva said dreamily, envisioning Tony's face when he was pushed into the backseat of the police car.

"Well, somehow he managed to stash a bug and record everything we said that night at Abby's slumber party."

Fear swept across Ziva's face. "Including what was said about Gibbs?"

Carmen nodded.

"I'm going to murder him! If he even tries to show Gibbs that tape, I'll strangle that little neck of his."

"I heard it this morning. Tony began playing back the recording when Gibbs showed up, then Tony demanded I do what ever he said or else." Carmen sighed. "If Tony shows Gibbs that recording, we are all dead."

Ziva laughed, "I doubt Tony actually intended to use the recording against us. He would be criminating himself. But boy, I wish I could watch Gibbs interrogate him about it. And besides, I doubt Gibbs believes that you two are together. You're like _fat_ in water."

Carmen, despite the situation she faced, couldn't help but laugh at Ziva's remark. And she didn't have the heart to correct her. Oil and water. The atmosphere lightened slightly, and all Carmen could do was be hopeful that Tony kept his mouth shut. Ziva and her returned to the bullpen to find McGee sitting at his desk, utterly confused. He had arrived when Tony was cringing on the floor and then everyone immediately dispersed, leaving him alone to wonder what had just happened.

"What just happened?" McGee uttered with uncertainty.

"Tony tried to black mail us," stated Ziva casually as she returned to her desk.

"I was afraid of that—" confessed McGee, watching Carmen pass by his desk with fury in her eyes.

"Where's Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Well," McGee frowned. "After he forced Tony in the elevator—"

"I knew it," Ziva sang.

"—he went to his desk, took out his gun, and went upstairs to Vance's office."

"What?" halted Carmen. "He wouldn't, would he? "

"I don't know?" answered McGee, understanding what she was implying. "He didn't appear angry when he exited the elevator."

Before McGee could continue explaining, Tony entered the bull pen.

"Hello, darling!" Tony sang walking past Carmen, and slipped the recorder from his suit pocket.

_"While within the time you've known him. What attracts you to him?" _

"Tony, I've already decided to forgive you. Don't remind me." Carmen snarled, causing Tony to roll his eyes and toss the recorder into his desk drawer.

"Attracts what to who?" McGee repeated, completely out of the loop of what was happening.

"What?!" Tony snickered, acting innocently, and smiled at Ziva and Carmen. "It's was innocent play. 'No one was injured in the making of prank,' "

"Don't act innocent, Tony!" Ziva shot, jumping up from her desk. "What happened in the elevator? Did you tell him?"

"No."

Both Carmen and Ziva sighed in relieve.

"But I did tell him Carmen and I were in love."

"What!" Carmen blurted out. "Why didn't you tell him the truth? What possible ground do you gain telling Gibbs that?"

"I was trying to make a point."

Tony's voice and behavior was no longer eliciting humor. He was suddenly serious and stern.

"And what point would that be," asked Carmen.

"It doesn't concern you."

"Like the hell it doesn't, _darling!"_

Carmen and Tony had become inches within each other, facing off like a dual. Silence filled the air.

"Tony, what _did_ happened in the elevator?" McGee asked trying to break the tension in the room.

"Nothing that concerns you, McGee," came a voice from beyond everyone's conscience. "Gear up, we have a dead marine."


	8. Recurrence

Carmen, who had barely managed to unpack one box in her apartment, had already entangled herself in a web of which she had no chance of escaping. It was watchfully being guarded by the black widow, of who wanted to devour her slowly, painfully torturing her within a brink of her life. He had already immersed himself in her life.

Several months passed before Carmen allowed herself to think back on the events that had happened when she first her assignment with NCIS. She believed that no one had forgotten what had happened; especially, Gibbs. Although the truth about Tony's and her's fake relationship had surfaced, Gibbs never mentioned it or preached rule number twelve again.

Normal had reinstated itself into the team's work life; dead person, research, suspect, wrong suspect, more research, murderer. Then it was onto the next case.

Things had begun to blur into one another. Carmen could no longer deceiver Tuesdays from Wednesdays, or mornings from evenings. She quickly found herself slipping in and out of realm state. She would go to work, then come back to from work. She would go to work, then come back to from work. The repetition became senile. She also ceased from seeing Ziva or McGee after work. Not that they were still friends—she considered them strictly coworkers. She had no other friends than those at work, and those at work were more acquaintance she was forced to see on a daily basis. She simply sat at a desk with no personal possessions. No picture frames of family, or even a pet. Not even a special or favorite writing utensil. Nothing at work excited her or pulled her interest.

Most days she felt useless. The fifth wheel of the bullpen.

Carmen admitted to herself all passion was lost. Hr passion, driven to revenge her mother, her torturer. She often found herself almost every night after work, at a bar, drinking away her sorrows. She'd stay until closing time, call a cab, and somehow make it up the stairs to her apartment, of which was relatively still filled with boxes. And with a few hours of sleep and a shower, she managed to drag herself back into work. Her coworkers seemed to be ignorant that she came into work everyday still a bit tipsy from the previous night, but she suspected a few times to be fired. Not by Gibbs, but Vance. More than a few times had Vance called her into his office. Not to discuss this problem, but she was pretty sure he was very aware of the fact she came into work with a hangover.

**~:.:~**

The elevator doors opened. Carmen stood in the center barley in reality. She hesitated a few moments before stepping onto the NCIS floor. She rounded the corner, eyes on the floor, trying to enter the bullpen unnoticed.

"Good morning, Carmen." Ziva sang from her desk chair.

Carmen turned to face her. Ziva had a donuts in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other with a daily cross word puzzle on her desk.

"Morning," replied Carmen half-heartedly.

"Late night, last night?" Ziva smiled. Carmen sat down in her chair and side glanced her coworker.

"Something like that," she replied as she slammed files on her desk. "Long night of overdue paper work."

Carmen watched Ziva smile and return to her crossword puzzle. Carmen frowned; the truth was it _was_ a late night. She was at the bar most of the night again. She had finished these case files months ago, and aimed to use them as excuses for any 'late nights'.

"What is a four-letter word for funny?"

"How 'bout Tony?" replied Tony as he entered the bullpen, then looked over at Carmen. "You're early probie."

Carmen rolled her eyes, as did Ziva. The incident that happened with Tony was swept underneath the rug. The tension of the feud diminished yet Carmen could not forget it.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

Carmen cocked her head at Tony, annoyed.

"Late night, last night?" he asked.

"Why the hell does everyone continue to ask me that?" Carmen snapped.

Ziva and Tony exchanged looks.

"Your shirt is inside-out and backwards," Gibbs said, entering the bullpen. Carmen looked down finding her shirt was truly on wrong. Tony and Ziva laughed. "Gear up, we have our crime scene."

"Boss were missing Mc—"

"Sorry I'm late," McGee shouted upon entering the bullpen accompanied with a coffee in his hand. "Line was unusually long at—"

Gibbs eyed McGee.

"Right, Boss, not important."

"Gear-up."

Gibbs started toward the elevator, but suddenly stopped and turned towards McGee. He snapped the cup of coffee from his hands and walked over to Carmen and shoved the cup into her hands. "Wake-up. Paperwork or not. You're on my time now."

**~:.:~**

Carmen pressed her head against the glass, staring absentmindedly at the passing landscape. The tension between Gibbs and her had neither deceased nor diminished. It actually increased. His severe coldness began to creep inside her bones. However no matter how much she despised that man, she respected his opinion. She would neither forgive nor apology to that man. Not after what he had inflicted upon her. And she didn't except to ever met his apology either. Carmen knew their relationship would never raise from the depths. She accepted this evadible defeat, and all hope was lost.

"Is there something on your mind, my dear?"

Since the first incident regarding the travel plans, Carmen had permanently decided to accompany Doctor Mallard and Palmer to the crime scene. She often joined the doctor in the front, and Palmer was unfortunately stated to the back.

Carmen sighed, and replied, "Something quite heavy, actually."

"What we think; we become."

Carmen half-smiled, but didn't lift her face from the window.

"Buddha? Then I shall become a murderous traitor."

Ducky gripped the steering wheel and shifted his gaze from the road to the woman sitting next to him.

"My dear, whatever may be on your mind, I offer my ear."

Carmen faintly nodded, accepting his offer with gratitude.

Ducky turned his attention back to the road. A few moments passed when he felt a warm weight on his hand. Carmen had placed her hand over his, which rest on his thigh. She lightly squeezed his hand.

"Thank you Ducky, for everything."

"Of course my dear," Ducky said as he twisted his wrist, and lightly squeezed her hand back. "Silence makes the real conversations between friends. It is not what is said but the silence that proceeds."

Over the course of the few months Carmen Wilson had been assigned to Gibbs's Team, Ducky had noticed a dramatic change in her. Ducky never tried to pry into her life but he could easily tell she carried a heavy burden from her past. It wasn't immediate. When Vance asked him to evaluate possible candidates Carmen was overly qualified for the position. She was well-rounded for aspects of the position at NCIS. Even when evaluating her background and past, no warning-flags popped up other than the fact her mother died when she was thirteen. Maybe a traumatic childhood fueled her future? Ducky thought?

Since Ducky worked with her daily, he watched her closely, as he did with the other NCIS agents. He noticed a dramatically change in her after her incident with Tony and Gibbs. Although it was never spoken to him personally, Palmer managed to tell him some detail which had transpired.

And now after a few months Ducky concluded she was slipping into a depression. Over what transpired with Gibbs? Or was it something in her past? Ducky decided to pry himself into her past. Slowly, and detection; so she wouldn't suspect a thing.

**~:.:~**

The team stood before a tragic sight; a mother and child resting forever in their living room. Gibbs' teeth clenched together, and walked from the sight. He met his old friend beside the ambulance.

"He has struck again!" Gibbs couldn't control himself. "After all this time he stayed dormant!" Gibbs began pacing into a circle, his hands on his hips, his temper on edge.

"I'm so sorry Jethro," said the older man, shaking his head. Carmen, who had been beside Ducky looking for supplies, took the hint from Ducky and walked towards the house, leaving the two men alone.

"If I had just caught him—the last time. If I hadn't let him escape, they'd still be- I can't—"

"Jethro, you can not torment yourself like this." Ducky grabbed the younger man's forearm. "You can not give up. If you have guilt in your heart then you owe it to those families who have lost their family to him. Give those families their peace and justice."

By now Gibbs was shaking. His heart was pounding. His scar cross his lower abdominal pulsed. Gibbs nodded at the older man and rejoined his team inside.

"Who are they?" he said joining his team in the house.

Ziva, Tony, and McGee already collecting evidence and photography the scene found Gibbs stopped in the threshold, momentarily hesitancy and controlling his temper before he completely adjoined.

"A, Caren Thomas, 33, widow of Lt. John Thomas. Died while on tour in Afghanistan. Their child, . . . " McGee paused, quiet disgusted of the death of a child. "Lindsay, 13."

Carmen, who had began taking photography in the child's room, listened to McGee's report intently, then suddenly an overwhelming dizzy spell quickly came over her. Her knees buckled and she tumbled to the floor. This was it.

_"Carmen, baby, I need you to run!"_

_"Mom I don't wanna leave you."_

_"Carmen, please, I'll be fine." Her mother cupped her child's sobbing face; blood smeared onto her face from her mother's hands." I need you to be brave. Run!"_

_"I don't want to leave you!"_

_Suddenly a man grabbed Carmen and wrenched her from her mother's arms._

_"NO, PLEASE DON'T HURT HER!"_

_"MOM!"_

_"CARMEN! . . .CARMEN!"_

"Carmen? . . . Carmen!"

A slight nudge brought Carmen back to reality. She was on the floor, on her hands and knees. Her eyes focused on the person before her; Gibbs. She lightly shook her head and accepted his outstretched hand.

"You alright?" asked Gibbs suspiciously.

"Yah, fine, just caught off guard," she lied, turning her body away from him. However Gibbs caught a glimpse of her bottom lip being sucked into mouth and immediately knew she was lying. He wanted to know, but refrained from asking her now.

"Got anything?" he began.

Carmen was still feeling dizzying from whatever she had just experienced. The flashback of her past literally took the air from her lungs, but she managed shake the pain away. Still a bit dazed, she turned her attention back to Gibbs.

"Possibly," Carmen replied, and she was about to elaborate but Gibbs interrupted her.

"We're not going to catch this psycho on _possibly_. If you got something, say it. If not, keep your mouth shut."

"Jesus, Gibbs!" she spat in disbelief of the man's sudden and most unwarranted anger. "I want this guy stopped too, maybe you more than I, but Christ! We can't loose our heads in the process."

Carmen's return-fire seemed to extinguish Gibbs' sudden surge of fervor. His features softened immediately. Carmen didn't know whether her outburst had effected him through forced consciousness or that she had surprised with a returned rant. Either way, it held him still. A few moments passed before he gently nodded. .

Carmen, having held her breath through the duration of the silence, finally released her lungs. She inhaled deeply before proceeding.

"As I was saying, I noticed a notebook on her desk. I opened it—its the little girl's journal. I thought it odd to found it laying out in the open. A thirteen year would probably stash it underneath her mattress or hide it in a desk drawer. I was just about to process it before, well, finding me on the floor."

Gibbs dully nodded as she reported her findings.

Carmen picked up the journal, and quickly flipped through the pages, searching for anything that would stand out. She observed all the entries were either written in pink or purple ink, then something caught her eye, as did Gibbs. Carmen felt a pressure against her sides; Gibbs stood right besides her.

"Black permanent marker . . . different from all the other entries."

Carmen quickly flipped the pages back. A red ribbon acted as a bookmark, and Carmen flipped right to it. What she found struck fear in Carmen's stomach; sloppy, black slanted words filled the page.

_**I haven't forgotten about you; especially, not on our anniversary. I've been watching you. Why so sad? I'm going to turn that frown upside. It's time for some fun.**_

_**pg. 92'**_

Carmen slowly set the journal down, becoming troubled as she comprehended the words and their meaning. She couldn't believe it. After so many years of researching and waiting, her opportunity had finally arrived. This was it, she thought. Now or never.

Unbeknownst to her, Gibbs' orbs were watching her—studying her reaction. Why, she thought, and quickly turned from him. She would not allow him to see her in her vulnerability. She couldn't allow him to realize the connection she shared with this family and this message.

"It's been a year since his first victim," Gibbs began. "And I have been chasing him like a fool. . . . There'll be no trial; I swore on my wife's and daughter's grave, I'll kill him first. "

Carmen listened carefully to his words. He was hurting with such immense guilt. She realized his outburst earlier was in no way directed at her. Once again silence arose, and she watched his jaw tense as he grip his gun, shifting back and forth in its holster. He was hurting badly, she thought as he suddenly turned from the room. Despite their rivalry, she felt bad for him.

Finally left alone, Carmen turned back to the journal and read the message again and again, and again until the words were permanently stamped in her mind. She could only clench the book tightly in her fingers, feeling a familiar adrenaline in her veins. This was it. It was time. Her past had arrived.

**~:.:~**

After some time, Carmen finished gathering and processing the little girl's bedroom and rejoined the rest of her team in the living room. The mother and child were no longer habiting the floor.

"Same MO as the other victims," McGee stated.

Gibbs sighed, and nodded. "Alright, Duck. You can transport the bodies."

**~:.:~**

Carmen had her forehead pressed against the glass of the ambulance window again. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

"Ducky. . . . "

Ducky could sense the fear in her voice.

"I need to tell someone . . . before it boils inside of me. I've had it bottled up for twenty years and it's about to exploded out of me."


	9. McTarget

;I wanna thank the following 6 people who took the time to review on my story. Frickin' love those peeps; they are: **bored411, Nymphi16, winchesterxgirl****, ****Scousernic, KrazyCookieRaider****, and dg101. **Thank you for being so awesome!

;Okay this chapter has a lot of information, so try to pay attention. This has a lot of information regarding Carmen and what happened to her mother. Its super important to review over the first couple of chapters. Thanks.

**~:.:~**

Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and McGee stood around the projector screen in the bullpen. On the screen compared multiple photos of the past victims.

"Exactly one year ago Miranda Malison and her ½ year old child were found inside their nursery room." McGee changed the photos to a woman and child lying on the floor. "They were found when the husband came home from work."

"The child was wrapped in a _red_ blanket, at first, not thought to be unusual. But the father had never seen the blanket in the house before. It was placed on the child after they . . . they were murdered." Tony clenched his teeth.

"It wasn't thought to be of real significant until the next victims." McGee changed the photos to another woman and child, yet lying in a bed of wood chips. "Four months after the first attack, Jessica Harper and her six year old daughter were found at the local Navy Park. In the arms of the child a _red_ headed doll—the father had never seen it before."

"The two cases were never linked together until only a few months ago, just around the time when Carmen joined NCIS" Ziva said grabbing the little remote from McGee's hands. "Cecilia Victor and her nine year old daughter were found in their house—in the kitchen, cutting _red _strawberries."

"The father expression concern, for the child had a strong strawberry allergy."

"And now—Boss?"

Gibbs, before anyone could utter another word, was already in the elevator. McGee turned to Tony and Ziva, then to the closed elevator doors.

**~:.:~**

"Ducky where is she!"

Gibbs had entered in the corner's office with a stern expression on his face.

"I'm right here Gibbs."

He turned from the doctor to the voice behind him. He observed Carmen in a full medical scrub uniform and she had just begun to scrub her hands with soap and water.

"Why isn't she upstairs with my team!" Gibbs, rather than addressing Carmen, turned back to the doctor.

"Well, you see, I am in need of assistances. Mr. Palmer is—"

"I need her!"

"Jethro—"

"Ducky!"

"Boys!" mocked Carmen.

The two men turned from each other to the woman across the room.

"Gibbs I offered my assistance to Dr. Mallard because I am not familiar will this case, considering I came to NCIS _after_ these crimes were committed. I though Dr. Mallard could shed some light on the case and pull me up to speed—while also assisting him, only until Dr. Palmer has recovered from his aliment."

Carmen, watching Gibbs momentarily pause, knew this was a mistake.

"And you thought I'd be _fine and dandy_ with your decision!" Gibbs began inching his way towards her. " Whose team are you on again!" Gibbs mocked.

"Yours, of course Gibbs—"

"The part I don't understand is why you are making decision that aren't yours to make!"

Gibbs was now hovering above her, staring into her soul.

"Jethro I think that is enough. I want to have a word with you outside."

Gibbs continued to stare into Carmen's eyes.

"Jethro!" Ducky spoke from—out-of-character; he raised his voice.

Gibbs broke eye contact with Carmen and strode out of the corner's room. Once Ducky had Gibbs out the room and the automatic door shut, he turned harshly to Gibbs.

"Gibbs I think it is time to come to terms about this girl."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

Ducky stared at his younger co-worker. He was shocked with him; he had had just about enough with his insufferable attitude.

"This girl is young, brilliant, and talented beyond our reckoning, yet you insist on being an intolerable ass."

Normally Gibbs, once hearing a swear word utter from Ducky's mouth, would smile or laugh, but in this instant it fueled his anger.

"Fine, keep her." Gibbs had hit the elevator button, and stepped into the lift. "She's useless to me."

The elevator's doors shut in Ducky's face. He thought himself possibly getting too old for _this._

Ducky re-entered into his office. Carmen was still standing by the wash sink, and turned to him upon entering the door open.

"He took it better than I expected."

Ducky lightly chuckled and nodded, but Carmen could sense sadness in his movement.

_"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."_

**~:.:~**

"Abs what are you doin'!"

"Oh, hi, upside-down Gibbs . . . or rather—

"Abby?"

Abby, who had been in the position of a headstand, flipped her feet down to the floor, and hopped into a standing stance.

"Aren't you curious what I was doing Gibbs! — Whoa, I'm dizzy."

"Abby? —"

"Well Gibbs since you asked. I was trying to prove that if you stand on your head it increases your brain function—so I was trying to do this cross-word puzzle while upside-down."

"Well?"

"Other than the fact that all my blood is in my head, and I can't see straight! It's working great."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, and said, "What's this got do with the case, Abs!"

"Geez, Gibbs. Someone has hopped off the grumpy express."

Gibbs eyed her closely, but his intimating stare didn't strike down her mood.

"Well it doesn't."

"So you got nothing for me!"

"Have I ever not had anything for you!" Abby smiled and turned to her computer; magically, she turned into serious mood.

"With the flower found in the girl's hair—poor little girl—"

"Abs!"

"Right. The flower found in the girl's hair—a red rose—I was able to find small traces of fertilizer. With many dozens of flower shops in D.C., I can narrow it down according to the certain type of ingredients they use in their fertilizer. So, I need samples to test and then I can compare and cross-reference the fertilizers. Then I'll be able to tell you where the rose was bought. Then our talented NCIS agents can, well, that's there job to tell you."

"But, huh, Gibbs," Abby said grabbing Gibbs's arm, stopping him from leaving. "There is very likely chance that the fertilizer potted with the flower is name-brand or a very popular fertilizer. Which would bring down the odds of finding the store, which it was bought in. . . . And there is still the scenario, the killer planted it in his backyard."

Abby, knew, when Gibbs, even in the foulest moods, would still reward her with a peck on the cheek or to her liking a Caf Pow. But instead Gibbs didn't smile, thank, or peck her on the cheek, but turned quickly on his heels and was out the door.

Abby knew Gibbs was seriously pissed.

**~:.:~**

"I appreciate your assistance . . . and patience with this old man."

Carmen smiled at the man across from her.

"You are the most patience man I've ever came across . . . It is just a mystery to me how the most patience man in the world is great pals with the most impatience."

Ducky chuckled, and replied, "Yes, I've quite wondered that myself all these years." They had completed the autopsy on both women and made their way to Ducky's desk.

"Carmen, I think I have put you off long enough. Please tell me what's been troubling you."

Carmen half-smiled at the doctor and breathed deeply.

"My mother was a marine. I remember thinking she was the strongest person I knew . . . . She left my father with he started to abuse alcohol and . . . me. It was just my mom and I for the longest time. She never dated thereafter. I knew it was because of me, . . . but she was happy.

_"Haul, I want you out of this house. Now!" _

"I remembered he had hit me—he was so drunk. I had asked him if I could watch a cartoon on the TV. I was eight or nine."

_"Daddy can I watch a cartoon!" _

_"Go to bed!" he yelled and took another swig of his beer. _

_"Daddy, it's_—"

"He hit me . . . . He never drank in front of my mother. Only ever when he babysat. But she came home from work early that day. She saw him hit me across the face." Carmen shrugged her shoulders. "She kicked him out that night." Carmen frowned.

_"Mommy please!" Carmen sobbed. "Daddy come back. Don't leave us! I love you. Mommy!" _

"She made that decision the second he raised his hand. I was just too young to understand it was the right one for us." Carmen sighed.

"No child should have to endure sufferings caused by their parents." Ducky listened intently to every word spilled from Carmen's mouth.

"He went crazy—stalked the house at night—broke in one night, too. My mom decided to was best to just move away. We moved to D.C. —she got promoted . . . . This all might sounds so belittling but its when my mother died that's cause me so much . . .pain."

"I was thirteen, when my mother was chosen to become an undercover agent. She only once spoke about to me—right before we were taken."

"Taken!" Ducky sat straighter in his chair. "What are you talking about, taken! I've read your report—there was nothing mention it about you been abducted."

"Yes, yes, I know. Her mission was compromised—her partner was compromised. They tortured him until he was on the brink of his life. In agony, he told them about my mother—how she was also an undercover marine . . . . They came for her. She was at home with me—in my room listening to music and playing dress—up. She didn't hear them come in, not before it was too late." Carmen paused momentarily as if to ready herself.

_"Carmen, baby, I need you to run!"_

_"Mom I don't wanna leave you."_

_"Carmen, please, I'll be fine." Her mother cupped her child's sobbing face; blood smeared onto her face from her mother's hands." I need you to be brave. Run!"_

_"I don't want to leave you!"_

_Suddenly a man grabbed Carmen and wrenched her from her mother's arms._

_"NO, PLEASE DON'T HURT HER!"_

_"MOM!"_

_"CARMEN! . . .CARMEN!"_

"They used me against her." Carmen briefly hanged her head, her eyes swelling with tears. " After they found out what they need to know, they no longer needed her—or me . . . . She fought them off as long as she could—long enough for me to escape. We were living on a navy base so I just ran to the house around the block. I told the authorities what my mother told me to tell them. The people who initiated the mission caught wind of what had happened. And do you know what they did!"

Ducky sat in silence as he watched the woman in front of him.

"They covered it up. Denied anything and everything." Carmen shook her head. "The agency investigating my mother death was suddenly stopped. But the things I was saying couldn't go un-dealt with. The people who initiated the mission deemed me as emotionally-traumatized—said I was making things up to fill the gaps in my mind—said I was traumatized due to my parents divorced." Carmen shrugged her shoulders. "And after a short time, any files on my mother's death went missing. My mother was swept under the rug because they were trying to cover their asses."

"What happened to you, after your mother's death." Ducky had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that he already knew.

"Back to my drunken father. . . . Ducky, the reason why I'm telling you this is because I think I who has been killing the women and their children."

Ducky watch the women before him clenched down on her jaw. She told him about the message written in the little girl's journal.

"Today is a very special to me. Much like Mrs. Thomas, my mother was thirty-three when she was murdered. Like the little girl, I was thirteen. My mother's name was Caren, as is the women's lying over there. It's my mother twentieth-death anniversary today. Don't you see Ducky! I am thirty-three myself."

Ducky had instantly made the connection when Carmen told him about the message in the journal.

"You believe the message was addressed to you? You think there is no coincidence that mother and child were chosen because she had the same name as your mother and exactly the same age, and the little girl was the same age as you."

"Yes," she exhaled. " . . . But I was told a year ago, today is when Gibbs first came upon his victims . . . . This has the possibly of having no relation to me what so ever, but could be in fact meant for Gibbs."

"You think the man who murdered your mother, is the same who has been killing these women and children?"

Carmen nodded, and replied, "There is one more thing . . . in all the cases he left behind an item, always red. . . .

"Yes?"

"I had a red ribbon in my hair. When I managed to get away from their grip I ran as fast as I could. His arms reached to grab me but he caught the ribbon in my hair. That red ribbon was placed in that little girl's journal. I didn't the connection until you told me about the cases in which he always left behind something red."

"Carmen I am lost for words. If what you have said to be true, and his man, after twenty years has waited until now; I fear for the worst for what the rest of the message had re-laid."

**~:.:~**

"Grr, my lead has hit a dead end," Ziva said leaning back in her chair.

"Yep, thanks," Tony said before hanging up the phone. "I've hit a dead end too."

Tony and Ziva looked to McGee.

"I've got nothing." McGee put his head down on his desk.

"Well I've got something."

McGee quickly sat up.

"Tony, McGee. Check every flower shop in D.C. —get samples of their fertilizers. Don't come back until you've been to every single one."

Tony looked to Ziva, then McGee.

"Boss that's im—"

"If you finish that sentence, DiNozzi, you're fired."

"Right, boss, sorry, boss." Tony then slapped himself in the back of the head. "McGee I'll drive."

The two left the bullpen in an impressive time.

"And what shall you have me do?" Ziva asked from her desk.

With his blue eyes, soft and worrisome, he looked at Ziva.

"I wished I had an answer for you."

**~:.:~**

"Carmen came into work today, right?"

Tony side glanced at his co-worker.

"What's it to yah, McLover?"

McGee rolled his eyes and replied, "Well I really haven't seen her all day, today. Just curious where she went."

"Well McLover that ship has sailed."

"What do you mean by that!"

McGee and Tony had exited the NCIS building and were standing on the sidewalk before the road.

"It means, McLover—"

Tony stopped on the account of loud bang echoing through the parking lot. People scattered around the building all looked to each other and around, wondering where the source of the bang came from.

"Must've been some kids playing prank," Tony said turning back to McGee.

Tony's eyes widen.

McGee was holding his hand against his chest; red seeping between his fingers.

**~:.:~**

;Yah, that's right. I just left it at a biiiiig cliff hanger.

;So Gibbs and Carmen are connected with this case. When will Carmen tell Gibbs. Will he be mad when he finds she has been hiding information from him. And was Carmen on a secret assignment when she came to NCIS? How will Gibbs react when he finds out about Carmen's true intentions on his team . . . . And most importantly . . . is McGee going to make it! I suppose you'll have to tune in for the next chapter. Thanks.


	10. Betrayal

;Wowser! A bunch of people to thank for taking their time to review my story: **bored411, KrazyCookieRaider, winchesterxgirl, Nymphi16, dg101, Ryn of Magic, lovewerido, 0799,** and **Bella.**

;You guys know the feeling when you check your stats and see that another reviews has been submitted. It is amazing. Thank you so much.

**~:.:~**

With one, smooth stroke of his wrist, Gibbs pulled his glasses from his nose and threw them onto his desk. Weaving his fingers together, he placed his hands on his head and arched his back against his chair. A few pops here and there sounded across the bullpen. Ziva noticed her co-worker's figure and raised her brow.

With a swift kick, she pushed herself from underneath her desk, and slide her chair towards his desk. Quietly, though, slid his computer monitor over, revealing him to her; his eyes were closed and his hands heavy on his head. Ziva's eyes followed the withered lines on his face; his lips dry and chapped; his eyes—

"Can I help you with something Ms. David?"

Startled, Ziva jumped slightly. She momentarily paused, quickly thinking of an excuse to give.

"Just worried about you is all," defended Ziva.

"Is that so?" Gibbs whispered, still having not opened his eyes. "Why is this?"

Ziva didn't how to reply, but suddenly Gibbs did it for her.

Gibbs leaned over his desk and brushed away her hair from her cheek, giving it a soft kiss.

"Thank you, Ziva," he whispered, and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I owe you for so much."

Ziva smiled into his hand and cupped her own hand over his.

"That is not necessary, " she said and stood from her chair. "For I owe you so much as well. . . . Even?"

"Even."

Suddenly Gibbs's cell phone began ringing; _Tony_, the receiver read. Gibbs flashed it at Ziva, winking as he flipped it open.

"Someone better be dying, DiNozzo!"

**~:.:~**

_**I haven't forgotten about you; especially, not on our anniversary. I've been watching you. Why so sad? I'm going to turn that frown upside. It's time for some fun. **_

_**pg. 92'**_

"What is the significance of _**pg. 92'**_, I wonder?"

Ducky and Carmen were sitting by Ducky's desk. As soon as his words left his lips he suddenly realized its significance, and before Carmen could answer, he added: "1992 was when your mother was murdered." The doctor nodded sadly. "I am so sorry, my dear."

A moment of silence filled the autopsy room before Ducky's office phone began to chime.

"Yes, Jethro?"

A few moments passed before Ducky's face fell.

"Oh my."

Ducky replaced the receiver back to its modem and turned back to Carmen with an expression that struck fear in Carmen's stomach.

"What is it Ducky?"

"Its Timothy. He's been shot."

"Oh my god," Carmen gasped. "Where?—How?—"

Ducky shook his head; he did not know himself.

Lightly grasping Carmen's arm, Ducky guided her to the elevator. He needed to tell Abby.

**~:.:~**

Carmen, Abby, and Ducky exited from the NCIS. Before them, just outside the doors, they saw an awful sight: a body resting still on the ground with Tony hovering over it. Gibbs or Ziva were no where in sight.

"Tim!"

Abby screamed and ran to his side.

Carmen and Ducky exchanged glances before proceeding towards the body. They came upon a sight that shocked them.

**~:.:~**

"Gibbs do you think this has any relation to the letter you received today?"

Gibbs stopped packing the knit and looked to his co-worker.

"I hope not for all our sakes."

**~:.:~**

"Oh god McGee! You can't do this!" Abby had lept to McGee's side and was hugging and thrashing his body from side to side. She cradled his head in her arms. "I love you McGee you can't leave me! . . . please don't leave me!" Abby managed to speak in between gasps and cries.

"I'm . . . so sorry . . . for your loss," Tony said dramatically, more than what was warranted for this kind of situation.

"Tony," she started, but quick with her senses, she sensed a hint of sarcasm in Tony's voice. She saw a slight twitch in his lips. She turned back to McGee. His eyes were closed but a smirk on his face.

Abby immediately dropped McGee head on the pavement and stood up.

"Owe! Abby!" rang McGee.

"How dare you! Shut up DiNozzi. Grr, I am going to kill you for real McGee!"

"Abby!" screeched McGee. He guarded his face with his arms.

"How could you! . . . pretending to be dead."

Suddenly without warning, Abby balled his fist, and punched Tony in his arm as hard as she could.

"Owe, what was that for?" Tony asked defensively, rubbing his arm.

Abby was just about to kick McGee in his ribs when a voice sounded around them. They all turned to find Gibbs and Ziva with knits in hand.

"What's the hell going on here!"

"Nothing I can't handle Gibbs," Abby said turning her body back towards McGee. She was just about to kick him in the ribs again when Gibbs suddenly grasped her arms, stopping her motion.

He re-gripped his hands mid-arm and pressed his lips against her ear. He spoke below a whisper; _"There's no amount of pain you could inflict as I can. . ."_

As Gibbs whispered into Abby's ears, her red, luscious lips curls in a wicked smile. He stepped back, observing the monster he created; Abby eyed the man on the ground with contempt, then turned to Tony. His smile had faded into a nervous frown while watching Abby transform anger into revenge.

"I'd watch your backs; there's a bite lingering for your asses."

With that being said, Abby turned and walked back towards the building, leaving the entire teams' eyes following after her, baffled and terrified.

Although with what had transpired with the recurrence with Gibbs's case, and the eventual ass beating he'd received from Gibbs, Tony thought it nice to see a little smirk play across Gibbs's face.

"Now that Tony and McFried have a death wish, let's begin."

Tony and Ziva photographed the scene: pictures of McGee, possible witnesses or possible shooters, and buildings with angles with possibles shooting ranges. Gibbs interviewed witnesses, all with no useable information. Ducky was not needed; no body to examine or release, but he expected McGee to visit later on the account of the humungous bruise forming on his chest. Carmen took samples of the projectile; an actual bullet with a red tip.

"You're lucky McGee," Carmen said examining the red substance on his shirt. McGee lightly nodded. "The shooter used an actually bullet."

McGee's brows knitted together. "How am I—"

"Alive?" Carmen frowned. "I am wondering that myself. If the intention wasn't to kill you, then why go to the trouble of rigging a bullet and fixing a red tip? Why not just use a red paint ball? The shooter would have had a low impact gun with a low impact bullet—which you don't see often today—and easily could be traceable back to the shooter—unless he made the bullet himself."

Gibbs, who was standing nearby, pecked his ear.

"Dissect the bullet open, dump some of its gunpowder out, fill the remaining space with red dye—But why go to that trouble?" She was repeating herself. "Why not use a red paint ball—hardly any work—unless his intentions were meant to be reprieved that if he wanted to kill you, he easily could have—he's watching us."

The team had encircled themselves around Carmen and McGee, listening very closely to what Carmen had to say. She stopped talking and noticed the team had swarmed around her.

"Interesting theory," Tony said. "You had obviously given this deep thought for so little time." Tony's expression changed into contempt. "You know, for all we know she could behind this all."

"What, Tony, what are you talking about?" Ziva said.

"Look at the facts: She joined NCIS just after we found another murdered mother and child. She even requested to be transfered to Gibbs's team." Carmen frowned. "I looked into your files. A year ago, today, you tried to be transformed to this team. Trying to be close to the team investigating her murders."

"Tony we chased down a man that day she joined NCIS," Ziva defended.

"So, she was working with partner."

"This is not a time to speculate," Ziva said.

Carmen shook her head, "Your crazy."

"Am I? And today? She wasn't with us, but down with the bodies of our latest victims. How convenient . . . trying to cover up evidence?"

"Tony, . . . Dr. Mallard asked me to assist him because Palmer was sick."

"Palmer's never sick, and even if he had a little cold, he never misses work . . . How do we know she didn't poison him?" He looked to Gibbs. Gibbs's face was still, listening intently to what Tony was saying. "She knew an awfully a lot about that bullet and what the murder was thinking; her partner."

Gibbs looked between Tony and Carmen; _Was he actually considering this?_

"Gibbs you are not actually thinking Tony's right?" Ziva said disbelieving. "This is so far-fetched. If Carmen was, then she wouldn't have told us about the bullet!?"

"She's trying to throw us off. Devoting just a enough information, so not suspect. Doing her job with NCIS, but keeping her cover as a murderer—"

Carmen had come face-to-face with Tony, and slapped him as hard as she could. Tony remained still, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Your such a fucking idiot, it pains me to even think you'd _even_ try wrapping your head around _his_ mind. This is way above your head."

"She had been playing us all along," Tony continued, ignoring Carmen's plead.

"You can't actually think that Tony," McGee said from below; he was still lying still on the pavement.

Tony stepped closer to Carmen.

"We should bring her into interrogation to see what she has to say because she hasn't said much."

A few moments passed before Carmen spoke.

"Unless I see some cold-hard evidence supporting this allegations, I'm out of here and your not going to stop me."

Carmen turned away from Tony and began walking towards the gate.

Ziva and McGee exchanged looks between each other, and Tony looked to Gibbs; looking for a small sign or signal to go after her. But Gibbs' eyes followed Carmen; watching her fade away in the background.

"Gibbs, if we let her go, she'll make a run for it. We'll never see her again." Tony was searching his face for answers but it came too late.

"Find the proof you need. You can bring her in after that. Ziva, trailer her, I want to know where she goes."

Tony shook his head, "Boss!?-"

"Do as I say." There was going to be no changing his mind. "Tony, finish here, use lasers, find out where that shoot came from. Ziva?"

She nodded and walked away.

"Boss?"

Gibbs looked down to McGee, still lying on the pavement.

"What about me?"

"After Tony has finished, go to the flower shops." Gibbs started to walk away.

"By myself?"

"Tony's gonna wanna prove his allegations right."

"What are you going to do!?"

Gibbs turned; this time it was Tony. His eyes were filled with anger.

"'Pologize to an old friend."

**~:.:~**

On foot, Ziva followed Carmen out of the gates. Either, Carmen would take a cab or the bus. Ziva followed behind her a 100yds or so, popping behind structures if Carmen looked back.

After ten minutes of walking, she watched Carmen turned the block of an old brick structure. Ziva lost sight and jogged to the corner. She turned the corner and find the street empty; she lost Carmen. Then suddenly her arm was ripped, twisted, and press against her back, then her legging was kick from beneath her. She was forced to the ground with a weight pressed on her back. She struggled, but unable to wiggled out.

"I'm sorry for this, Ziva, but I need you to listen. . . . I am going to let you go, alright."

Carmen slowly released the pressure she applied on Ziva arm, watching carefully if she was going to popped and attack her. She didn't, and helped her to her feet.

"You could have just stopped me—didn't have to attack me."

"I didn't know if you were against me or with me."

"I am neither," Carmen faced tightened then nodded. "Until all is resolved."

Carmen nodded, "following is pointless. I'm not going to lead you anyway that pertains to this case. I promise you everything that Tony has speculated about is wrong."

"I believe, but—"

"But what?"

"What Tony had said is very convincing, how do we know that what he said isn't true. What if you are, actually what he says."

"I suppose you are gonna have to decide that for yourselves." Carmen was serious. She stared intensely into Ziva's eyes. This wasn't a time for games.

"Gibbs told me to trail you."

"Tell him you lost me."

"I can't do that. Look, its not personal."

"Then I _will_ have to lose you."

**~:.:~**

"Ducky what is going on?"

The older man looked over his spectacles at the silver-haired man.

He signed, "Whatever do you mean, my friend. I'm not playing this game any more Jethro. What exactly do you want."

Gibbs was taken back.

"Tell me about Carmen."

Ducky shook his head.

"So now you want to talk about her. You know, dear boy, if you weren't such a cold, pissed off old man, she would have confided in you earlier. But you pushed her away."

"So she confessed to you!?"

"Yes, but—"

Gibbs suddenly disappeared into the elevator, dialing his phone.

Ducky just might have agreed to the wrong thing.

"Come Ziva answer . . . answer . . ."

"Gibbs."

"Grab her. Ziva. Grab Carmen!"

"Gibbs, I can't. I lost her."

"What!?"

"Gibbs we have a bigger problem. I was attacked."

**~:.:~**

;So has Carmen been lying? To Ducky? To everyone? Will the team ever find her again? And did Carmen attack Ziva or did some else watching her? And What does think about all of this? Does he believe Tony. Why did he let Carmen go? And poor McGee has been saved, or is someone watching him again?I suppose you'll have to tune in for the next chapter. Thanks.

Okay this is a little recap . . . just to keep you on track with the story.

Recap:  
Carmen Wilson joins the team. Gibbs is not happy about this decsion and still not after a few months passes.  
There is one serial killer that has managed to crawl underneath Gibbs' skin. After a year of investiaging crimes commited by this serial killer, Gibbs is no closer to solving it or catches the killer.  
This same serial killer 20 years killed Carmen's mother.  
Gibbs and Camen are linked. Gibbs is yet to find out about Carmen's past. The serial is tormenting both Gibbs and Carmen.  
The reasons why Carmen joined NCIS have been misread. Tony reads the facts this way: Carmen wanted to be close the investiagation to coverup and distort evidence, and have to a watchfully eye on the investivation. But Carmen knows she has to leave, if they take her into questionings, they'd kick her off the investagaion. So what are Carmen's intentions for leaving?


	11. Indecisive

**~:.:~**

Ziva grasped the edge of the metal table as Ducky applied a cleaning agent to the long slash across her throat. She mumbled something in Arabic.

_"Ziva, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have sent you out there—you weren't prepared—I should've sent backup with—"_

_"Gibbs. . . . " Ziva said hitting the down arrow on the elevator. She stepped into the lift and turned to face Gibbs. "I am alright."_

_"He could have killed you, just another millimeter and—"_

_"Gibbs. I am alright," she repeated. "He had a reason not to kill me. . . . He just wanted to let me know that he had get close without warning—there's a reason why he didn't kill me. . . . I just don't know why." _

_Gibbs stared at the white bandage wrapped around her neck. Blood had seeped through the temporary bandage and had already soaked the top of her shirt. They hadn't cut deep enough to kill her, but just enough to scare her. McGee now Ziva. Who'd be next? He nodded to her as the elevators door shut.  
_

"Ziva," Ducky said, standing in front of her. Ziva observed the doctor's expression: his face was solemn and his lips were silent. Ducky tilted his head, seemingly looking right through Ziva; his mind was elsewhere. "Ziva did Carmen do this to you?"

Ziva squinted her eyes at the doctor.

"Yes," she said and watched the brows of the doctor shoot up. "And no." He seemed to relax only a little. "The bruises, yes."

Ziva carefully pulled off the left sleeve of her jacket revealing dark purple and black bruises covering her wrist and shoulder. "These were necessary."

A flash of confusion sparked in Ducky's eyes.

"This however," Ziva indicated the slash to her throat, "was not by Carmen."Ziva sensed a swirl of questions forming in his mind. "No, I do not know who did this to me. And whether it was the same person who shot McGee, I do not know that either. But if I were a gambling man, I like the odds."

Ducky grinned and nodded his head.

"What?"

"Your English expressions are improving very well."

Ziva smirked, "It's all Tony—he won't shut up about it. My English and his movie references."

"What about my amazing skills?"

Sitting on the metal table Ziva turned to the voice she heard. Tony walked through the sliding doors. She quickly slid her arm back into the jacket.

"Only that you are becoming too much like Gibbs."

"Is it my amazing skills to know when to walk into a room? Or—"

"The grey shimmer starting in your hair."

Ziva watched as Tony's face fell and watched him ran to the mirror over the sink.

"That's not funny—you know how I feel about my hair—"

Suddenly Tony stopped talking. Ziva turned her head towards him; he was staring at her wrist through the mirror. Ziva turned around and put her hands in her lap.

"We almost done here Duck?"

Ducky must have not been following their conversation for when Ziva nudged him, he jumped. "Uh . . . what? My sorry my dear, what did you ask?"

"Ziva what are those?" asked Tony from the sink. He walked slowly over to Ziva, watching her reaction.

"I um . . . nothing," Ziva said shrugging her shoulders and tried pulling the sleeve further down her arm.

"That's not nothing, don't lie to me!"

Tony grabbed Ziva's hand and wrenched her jacket sleeve up revealing the bruise covering her wrist. Ziva ripped her hand away from Tony's grasp, flinching as she did. Tony bite down on his jaw, anger mounting inside.

"You didn't report that," he said pointing at her wrist. "What are you hiding!?"

"Tony, please, just stop."

But Tony couldn't. He suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline. He lunged at Ziva, grabbing her jacket sleeve and pulled as hard as he could. The jacket flow off Ziva, revealing both bruises.

Ducky had backed into desk, dazed.

Tony stared down at Ziva, nostrils flaring. He felt betrayed.

"There'd be only one reason why you'd try to hide this—Carmen."

"Tony its not what you think—it was necessary."

"Necessary?" he mocked. "What was so necessary that she had to put you in arm lock? . . . "

Tony's expression suddenly changed. "It was a trap."

"Tony, no, I don't think so."

Tony suddenly stepped closer to Ziva, inches from her face. "How do you know?"

Ziva stared into his eyes. They were filled with anger, resentment, and . . . fear.

"I don't, I just know."

"That's not good enough," Tony said, his voice elevating with every syllable. "I knew we should have never let her leave! She did this to you didn't she!"

"No!" Ziva screamed back. "I only lied about the bruises because I knew you'd be unreasonable. She did not do this." She said pointing to her throat and on the verge of tears. She couldn't take both Tony yelling at her and the fact that someone got close enough to her without her knowing. That fact was killing her.

Tony slammed his hands down on the metal table on either sides of her. "Stop trying to save her! The facts are there!"

"TONY!"

The third voice in the room startled both of them; their heads snapped to the entrance of the room; Gibbs stood at the threshold, staring hard at Tony.

"I think you've said enough."

Tony's blood was pumping. He could hear his pulse in his ears. He turned back to Ziva; tears threatening to fall. He pushed himself off the table and walked passed Gibbs with barely an inch between them. Tension mounted until Tony disappeared into the elevator.

Gibbs glanced to the doctor who had backed himself to his desk. He seemed dazed and somewhere else. He turned to Ziva who had her hands wrapped underneath the metal table and was staring down to the floor.

"Doc, why don't you take a break, I'll finish up with Ziva."

The doctor was barely coherent but lightly nodded his head. He grabbed his coat from the rake and made his way into the elevator.

Once the elevator doors were shut Gibbs turned back to Ziva. He grabbed the gauze lying beside her and started dabbing her bloody neck.

"You wanna tell me what really happened out there?"

Ziva suddenly turned her head up to the ceiling, stretching her neck, causing more blood to seep out. Gibbs lightly grabbed her chin and brought it back square.

Ziva sighed, "Carmen caused the bruises not the slash across my neck."

"Why did you lie?"

"I knew it would fuel Tony's—"

"Hey," Gibbs said grabbing Ziva's chin again, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Its one thing to lie to Tony, but not to me."

Ziva stared into Gibbs eyes. There was normally a fence guarding his fortress, but instead she found them open and vulnerable. He was hurting on the inside, but his hard exterior rarely would make that assumption.

Ziva dropped her gazed. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you. Not about some like this."

Gibbs let go of her chin and started to clean the slice on her throat again.

"What happened out there?"

Ziva hesitated, then began: "Carmen knew I was following her. Right from the beginning. I lost her around a corner. I sped up, turned the corner, and she was no where to be seen. . . . Then I felt my arm being twisted into an arm vice. My footing was knock from me. I fell to the ground. . . . I was unable to get out. . . ." Ziva stopped. She didn't like to admit that she was unable to get out of a situation.

"It was Carmen. She needed to know I wasn't going to attack. . . . She let me up—told me what Tony had said was wrong. She said my time was better spent catching the killer than following her." Ziva shook her head. " Said that I had to lose her, lie to you that I had lost her. I told her I couldn't— that's where she hit me," Ziva pointed to the gash above her brow.

"It knocked me to the ground. I lost her. . . I headed back to NCIS. And that's when . . . when he came from behind and . . . well you know the rest."

Gibbs sighed and placed the gauze down. It seemed he was caught between decisions.

"Gibbs I honestly don't know if Tony is right, whether it could have been a trap. I just don't want to know. I am hoping not, but . . . what Tony says . . . It makes sense."

Ziva and Gibbs met eyes.

"And what do you think? About Carmen?"

Gibbs stayed silent, continuing to clean the wound on her neck.

**~:.:~**

"Oh not you don't!"

"Abby please let me in."

"The only reason I'd let you in is if—"

"Abby it is important. Tony has gone all ape-shit on Carmen."

There was a silence followed by the opening of the large metal door.

"What did you just say? Ape-shit?"

McGee shrugged his shoulders, "I think it's the medication I just took—anyway, Tony accused Carmen of being involved in the killings of the mothers and children!"

Abby's eyes grew wide, "He did what!? Carmen? But that's impossible. She could never—would never . . . could she?"

McGee shrugged his shoulders again, "I don't know. I don't want to believe Tony, but what he said makes sense."

"So like, what happened up there?"

McGee filled Abby in on what happened after she left.

"But we had a sleepover together—she seemed so normal. There's no way—although—"

"What?" McGee asked.

"These past few months she's been withdrawing from me and Ziva—and Tony and you and Ducky and like everyone." Abby signed. "I thought she just might be a little depressed or something, I mean, whenever she talked about what happened to her when she was a kid—"

McGee's brows knitted together, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, like, when she was a kid, her mother was murdered. She was on a undercover mission—she was compromised—and well, you can imagine."

"Abby, please, I need you to tell me everything."

Abby curled her lower lip into her mouth, "I don't know—I don't think I should be telling you. Carmen—"

"Carmen has disappeared remember. Please, Abby."

"They came to her house."

"Who Abby?"

"I don't know, she never told me. She just said they came, killed her mom, and she managed to escape—"

Abby stopped talking; McGee had a strange expression on her face.

"Did she say how old she was when this happened.

Abby screw up her face trying to think real hard. "I think she said, 13. Why?"

"Abby I think . . . I think you just split this case wide open."

McGee suddenly kissed the top of Abby's head and bolted from her lab.

"Hey," Abby yelled. It stopped McGee by the door. "Everything I said, you knew, outside . . . I was lying."

McGee was grinning from ear to ear, then bolted from the room again.

**~:.:~**

"Tony," McGee shouted exiting the elevator. "Tony where's Gibbs?"

"No time Probie," Tony said checking his gun and replacing it in his hosier.

"What are you doing Tony?" McGee asked, although he was afraid he already the answer.

"Squad team. Two minutes. We're bringing her in."

"Tony," McGee said sternly, but he wasn't listening. "Does Gibbs know about this?"

With the mention of Gibbs' name Tony stopped, and turned to McGee. "Of course, McGee. Who do you think initiated the plan."

Tony had on a wide smile, one that brought more suspicion then reassurance.

Suddenly men and women in NCIS black jackets bolted from the conference room with Gibbs no where in sight.

"Tony!?"

But Tony was following them into the elevator. He turned and stood facing McGee. He had an expression of pure rage in his eyes. What was McGee going to do?

He thought about his options: if Gibbs knew and he told him, he wouldn't be mad; but if Gibbs didn't know and he told him, hell was liable to break free.

McGee decided and walked to the elevator, pushing the down arrow.

**~:.:~**

"Alright that ought to do it. Your lucky, I don't think it will scar . . . too bad."

Ziva raised her brow, "That's reassuring."

The two of them stared at each with smirks on theirs faces—

"Um, boss?"

The two of them both looked over to McGee staring in the entrance.

"Ya, McGee what is it!?" he said a little short.

"Um," McGee hesitated, "do you know where Tony is?"

Gibbs watched McGee closely, then answered, "I suppose going threw mounts of paperwork look through Carmen's background, why?"

McGee made a choking sound, followed by, "We have a problem."

**~:.:~**

"I'm going to kill him," Gibbs said under his breath, making his way towards his desk. He pulled out his gun, checked the cartage and clipped it on his belt.

"Gibbs maybe this is for the better."

Gibbs snapped his head to Ziva.

"If we bring her in—we can get answers."

Gibbs hesitated, "McGee track her cell, Ziva your with me."

Gibbs and Ziva started for the elevators then stopped. "Tim."

"Ya, boss?"

"You did the right thing."

McGee nodded, and watched him disappeared into the elevator.

**~:.:~**

The sun was just setting on D.C. as Gibbs shifted his car in park. He peered out the window seeing three NCIS cars parked in front of Carmen's apartment complex. Suddenly, lights illuminated the apartment. A team NCIS agents were visible in the apartment. There was no sign of a no struggle, nothing.

Gibbs turned to Ziva and gave her the signal.

They made their through the street, up the stairs, and into the complex. They were met by NCIS agent filing down the stairs; Tony was not among them and neither was Carmen.

They followed the stream of agents until it brought them to the kicked in door of Carmen's apartment. They saw Tony staring out a window; hands on his hips.

"She wasn't here." Tony stated. He'd know McGee would go to Gibbs.

"Did you really expect her to be here? Just waiting?"

Ziva went to him, but Gibbs observed the apartment. It was plain; white-wash walls, no picture hanging from the walls, no plants or pets; no personal items to speak off. He moved down the hallway, opening doors as he went; the closet was empty; bathroom was spotless as if it was never used, just a damp towel hanging from the bar; and the bedroom.

The bedroom was just the same as the rest of the apartment. A bed centered on the wall, a nightstand by it. He moved to the closet and opened it. The closet was filled with was just about to the close the door when he noticed a worn shoe box on the floor. He picked it up and sat on the bed, resting the box in his lap. What was he about to find?

"Gibbs?"

Gibbs head snapped from the box to Ziva standing in the doorway.

"Tony thinks she never came back to the apartment. We didn't find anything. We're heading back—did you found something?"

Gibbs looked back at the box, "I don't know. . . . You and Tony head back. I think you two have some talking to do. Go home. Tell McGee."

Ziva nodded and turned, then stopped, "And you?"

"I'll catch a cab. I don't live to too far from here."

She nodded again and was about to turned, but stopped again. "You know, because she ran, its not looking good for her. It looks like what Tony said was right. Maybe she has been in on it."

Gibbs nodded and watched her leave the room. He turned back to the box that rested in his lap. His gut told him she was guilty, yet his heart told him otherwise.

**~:.:~**

;So where is Carmen? If she was innocent why would she run? What reason would she have? Is she going to seek anyone out for help? And what is Gibbs feeling to make him think to cross his gut feeling? And what's in the box? Super secret stuff?

. . .

;Bam! New record for me. Two days. . . . Now lets see if I can beat that one ;)

;) Thanks so much for my reviewers: **stAnd out - SHOUT OUT, Ryn of Magic, KrazyCookieRaider, dg101, xxxcrybabyxxx11,** and **Nymphi16. **I wanna specially thank **stAnd out - SHOUT OUT** very much for being completely honest with their review. You were right: I need to be more careful when I edit. I went back to correct  
those mistakes you pointed out. And to **KrazyCookieRaider**, thank you for that extremely awesome review. And to** Ryn of Magic, **I listened to what you said; I worked on that this chapter. Thank you! And I can't forget those who Favorited and alerted my story. Thank you a million-billion!

;Because of the awesome feed back, I jumped on the next chapter right away.


	12. Two Sides

**~:.:~**

Gibbs had brought the worn shoe box home, having yet to open its lid and discover its contents. He forced himself to believe whatever lay in that box was not going to have any significance towards the case, and not so important to open it those very seconds. Instead, he dumped a glass full of nuts and screws out, wiped the inside with a rag, and filled it to the brim with bourbon, avoiding the box all together. He slowly washed away his thoughts. He had never been in this dilemma before. He was so caught in between, any side he took was wrong; his gut told him Carmen was guilty, but something else in his body told him otherwise.

He began to replay all the facts in his mind again: Carmen join NCIS just after another woman and child were murdered; she personally requested a position on his team only days after the first murdered a year ago; she had the expertise of a physician, the intelligence of the human body—easily knowing the way of acting unseen—knowing ways to never be discovered; she had the experience and head of a marine—physically and mentally trained; when confronted by Tony, she fled NCIS and her apartment; her apartment was spotless of any trace of her, except the box that rested on his worktable.

She could have done it. She had all the facts against her.

Gibbs suddenly thought back to the conversation he had had with Ducky before calling Ziva to tell her to bring Carmen in.

_"Tell me about Carmen," he had asked the doctor._

_Ducky shook his head, "So now you want to talk about her. You know, dear boy, if you weren't such a cold, pissed off old man, she would have confided in you earlier. But you pushed her away."_

_"So she confessed to you!?"_

_"Yes, but—"_

What would have Ducky said if he had not interrupted him. Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed Ducky's number. He had agreed to meet with him.

Gibbs had just poured the rest of the bourbon in his glass when he heard the steps creak behind him. He turned to find the doctor descending the stairs. He took off his hat and placed it on a pointed corner of his boat.

"What is to be discussed this very late evening," Ducky said, pulling out a stool from beneath the worktable. He sat down and turned to the younger man besides him.

"Duck I need to-to know_—_know about her. What she_—_she told you," Gibbs slurred, lowering his glass from his lips; he just realized how drunk he sounded. He fished for a stool underneath the workbench, just barely able to kept himself from falling over. While Gibbs fumbled with the stool, Ducky spied another bottle of bourbon and grabbed it, hiding it in an empty drawer.

"Duck you were trying_—_the last time we talked_—_to tell me about Carmen and her problem."

"Problem, you ask? Dear Jethro, I believe you're a mite too drunk to be discussing the case, especially Carmen." Ducky made the motion to leave, but Gibbs grabbed his arm.

"Please, I_—_its has been eating at me_—_all these mysteries about her and the case. You know I am perfectly okay_—_while drunk_—_"

Ducky sat back down, eying the man beside him. He nodded, "Alright, Jethro, but you must swear, once I have told you, to prove Carmen innocent before proving her guilty."

Gibbs nodded his head, "Swear, Duck." Gibbs made a motion over his heart with crossed fingers, "Cross by heart."

Ducky rolled his eyes, and signed at his co-workers persistence. He would rather prefer to wait until morning to discuss this matter.

"These passed few months I have kept a very watchful eye on Carmen. Ever since the incident with Tony and you involving rule number twelve_—_" Ducky rolled his eyes. "_—_I've watch a dramatic change happen in her. She had suddenly changed from this confident, witty woman to this quiet, depressed loner. It wasn't gradually at toll. It was as if a switch in her head had flipped off_—_yes, indeed I kept an eye on her. Especially after all that you had put her through."

Gibbs tilted his head towards the doctor, frowning. _How did he—_

"How did I know you had abused her? Simply because you are you; a hard-ass to anything that moves, especially anything involving change. And no, Jethro, she never spoke of it to me. But I am not idiot nor blind_—_that bruise on her wrist didn't magically appear on its own. As I recall you had done the same to Fornell back-in the day."

"I'm not proud of what I had done_—_something inside just erupted and out it went. Unfortunately Carmen was trapped in a box with me."

"I suspect so," he replied, shifting his weight on the stool. "I watched her_—_bottle everything up_—_never speaking of it again. That plus her past; it was a recipe for destruction."

"Her past, Duck, please," he said, trying to avoid anymore of himself.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I want to you to be aware of what toll you brought upon her." He paused, watching Gibbs' reaction. It was solemn and fearful. Ducky knew this was the best thing for him to hear. "You tormented and taunted her, Jethro! With your mind games. For what? To establish your power and dominance?_—e_verything has to be under your control, and if it is not, you make it so!"

It seemed, at where Gibbs was seating, Ducky was not only venting about Carmen, but all past happenings. It seemed Ducky had been bottling in some feelings himself, too. And they were now exploded out of him.

_"_Jethro, I have watched you as I have watched Carmen_—y_ou have feelings for her, don't you? Or so you think. I believe you have confused guilt and the yearn for forgiveness as love." Ducky studied the man before him. "Since the beginning of her employment, you've grown crueler and crueler towards her. And there is only two reason I can think of, that would cause you to act so: one, you are a sadistic man_—_just wanting to cause pain and suffering_—but _I rather doubt that."

Gibbs sucked the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay quiet.

"Two. You're in love with her. But considering your little history together, she couldn't love you back so_—_if you can't have happiness, neither can she. So you torment her. Hatred and love are next door neighbors_—_it gives you similar thrills." Ducky stopped and watched the man before him; his head was hung low in his hands. "You're a trouble man with a troubled past Jethro_—_just the same as Carmen. You two more similar than you think."

"Your right, Duck. I am a cold, piss off man. With a past that has fueled my future. I've done this to myself."

"I'm glad you've accepted your misgivings."

"I've known quite for sometime_—_I just needed to hear it_—_I'm so sorry Ducky. But please, tell me about Carmen. Had she been the one_ who__—_who_—_"

Ducky nodded his head. "I should have seen it earlier_—_the signs. But I let my personal opinions wash over my professional duty." Ducky looked down at the floor. "But she grew on me Gibbs. I was blinded by admiration and affection for her. She had my sympathies."

"You had no way of knowing."

"It's what do_—_it is my job to read people. And I let my emotions suave what was actually happening." Ducky nodded his head as if force himself away from his guilt and proceed about Carmen. He signed and continued. "She came to me about the truth_—_well half of the truth."

"Whad did she tell you?"

Ducky momentarily paused, as if to prepare himself for the truth.

"When one speaks of childhood trauma, it involves a range of negative experiences including physical, sexual, and mental abuse. Carmen endured this horrible childhood. When she was thirteen, her mother and her were kidnapped, tortures, and beaten. She has had to endure the sight of her mother being murdered in front of her. At the time her mother was a marine_—_on an undercover assignment. She had become compromised and they came after her."

"Who?"

"Carmen insisted the same serial killer you are after now. . . . Who may now not even exist if Carmen is the one terrorizing." Ducky dropped his head. So much made sense, but Ducky desperately wanted Carmen innocent, but as he continued he started to convince himself.

"So he came after her. They used Carmen against her mother until she gave in. Her mother told her to run and go to the authorities. Her mother had told her about her mission. But unfortunately the people who initiated her mother's mission were not happy at all that a thirteen year old knew of their mission. They couldn't afford a liability that like. So they deemed her as emotionally and mentally traumatized_—_told her no one was believing a word she said."

Gibbs stared at the floor thinking. He had no idea Carmen had lived through what she had.

"Eventually her mother's existence disappeared completely. All files and records on her mother and her undercover mission vanished. And so the cover-up was created."

Gibbs shook his head," Who initiated the mission?" Gibbs couldn't believe they had done that to a little thirteen year girl. "Who was Carmen's mother working for?"

"I don't know. I tried to retrieve that information, but I'm afraid all documentation was destroyed twenty years ago. But what I am sure of is what ever was the purpose of that mission, the agency took great precautions to kept the truth from getting out."

"What happened to Carmen_—_after her mother's death."

Ducky shook his head, "She went back to her father who abused alcohol and drugs, and her_—_poor girl didn't stand a chance. . . . I'm afraid we've lost her." Ducky lowered his head on his balled up fists. He had considered her as his longer lost daughter. Over the months she was comfortable to confine in him.

"These experiences," Ducky continued, although with sad expression on his face. "She had endured_—_would have considerably negative effects on both her mental and physical health. And also future social encounters. . . . Childhood abuse has been known to be linked with depression, substance abuse, personality disorder, dissociation, and_—_and suicidal tendencies."

Gibbs followed his every word, listening to Ducky as he dug Carmen her grave.

"I regret to inform that it is very possible that those psychotic phenomena's_—_those killings of women and child, has been a direct result of her childhood. . . . If this is the case, it is too late to save her now." Ducky closed his eyes. "She is a textbook psychotic."

~:.:~

Tony and Ziva had drove back to NCIS and were sitting at there desks, stunned at the turn of events that had conspired in one day. They told McGee to go home, but as Tony and Ziva made no attempt to leave, neither did he. They all just sat, staring at the flooring thinking about Carmen.**  
**

"I am still not convinced Carmen is behind this," Ziva said to no one specific.

"What more proof do you need? It is no coincidence that she had requested to transfer to NCIS the day of the first killing. And then, show up the day, we chased down the guy."

"That is not enough to convince me or a jury, Tony. Why are you so determined to see her executed?"

Tony clenched down on his jaw.

"Its personal, isn't it_. . . ._ You never got over that blackmail thing, didn't you."

"She ruined my relationship with Gibbs."

"And how, exactly did she do that?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"No, but you will have to, to Gibbs."

Tony smiled and leaned back in his chair with contempt. "You want proof? I'll find it!"

"And where are you going," she asked as she watched him stand up and start to head to the elevators."

"To find proof."

**~:.:~  
**

"You had said something about a personality disorder? What do you mean?"

"Most likely a split personality disorder in her case. One with a traumatic childhood often hides themselves behind a mask_—_to hide their true identity. Carmen had two sides; the normal and the psychotic. She had pulled the wool over all of us_—_especially me."

Gibbs nodded and turned his head. He caught a glimpse of the shoe box he had forgotten. He grabbed it and set it before him.

"What is that?" asked Ducky, curiously staring at it.

"It was it Carmen's apartment_—_hidden in her closet. I haven't opened it yet."

"And what do you fear to find?"

Gibbs shrugged his shoulder, "suppose we'll find out together." He suddenly lifted the lid. Inside the box had an assortment of items: a picture of her and her parents in front a waterfall, all smiling and laughing, dating before her parent's divorce; an old fairground ticket with a picture of her and her mother clipped to it; and then Gibbs pulled out a heap of newspaper clips. He handed some to Ducky.

"_Marine Caren Wilson, 33, of Washington D.C., died May 7, 1992. . . . _Yesterday was her mother's twenty death anniversary." Ducky added sadly. ". . . _died, May 7, 1992. She had come home in to a robbery-in-progress and was unfortunately murdered—_there's the cover-up." Ducky signed and settle down the article. "Is there anything else?"

Gibbs shuffled the rest of the articles together and found something underneath him. He pulled a thick, vanilla creamed folder from the bottom. He glanced at Ducky who was staring back at him. He opened the folder. They were both surprised to see what was in the file.

"Are those pictures from the crimes scenes?" Ducky asked as Gibbs pulled photos from the file. He shuffled through them, scanning the photo as he went.

"Yes, but_—_they are only pictures of the red items left behind at the crime scene: a red blanket, a red headed doll, strawberries, and_—a _red rose."

"Carmen had told me that when she tried to escape_—_her attacker pulled a red ribbon from her hair_—_that red ribbon was placed in the dairy of the little girl who we just discovered."

"For all we know she had wrote that message in the dairy and placed the ribbon there herself."

Ducky nodded, and asked, "is there anything else in the folder."

Gibbs turned back to the folder, "just a lot paperwork, I don't know what its about." Gibbs lifted the folder off the table and suddenly a loose piece of paper fell the folder. Both of them watched in flutter to the floor. Gibbs leaned over and picked it up. _"Operation Praying Mantis question mark."_

"Do you think Carmen was trying to figure out her mother's secret mission?_—_"

Both men turned their heads towards the stairs on account of a creak. They saw Tony shuffling down the stairs.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Oh not at all, dear boy," Ducky said shuffling all the papers back into the shoe box. "It's late_—_I was just leaving. Jethro, I'll see you tomorrow, earlier. _At MTAC." _He mouthed.

Tony eyed the shoebox stuffed beneath Ducky's arm then remembered it was Ducky, and looked away.

"Good-night Anthony."

"Night Doc." He waited until Ducky closed the door before turning to Gibbs.

"Whats on your mind Tony?" Gibbs asked standing from his stool. "Drink?"

"No. Thanks. I need a clear head. . . . " He watched his boss nod and grab a glass. He opened his cupboard and frowned; he could have sworn he had another bottle of bourbon.

"Why haven't you yelled at me?"

Gibbs turned and faced him, "For what?"

"For disobeying your orders and for going over your head."

Gibbs smiled. "I not going to punish you for following your gut. . . You did what I couldn't."

"So you believe Carmen has been behind everything?"

Gibbs hesitated. He looked at Tony with sad eyes. Tony didn't know about Carmen's past. Then gave him a small nod.

"Go home, Tony. Get some sleep. We'll start our search tomorrow."

**~:.:~  
**

The morning had come too fast. Before Gibbs knew it, he was meeting Ducky in the bullpen and was walking towards MTAC. **  
**

"Last night, before I went to bed, I made a phone call_—_requesting an urgent audience with the Sectary of the Navy. I was informed he would be in board meeting all morning."

"So how exactly_—_"

"I bribed his assistant," smirked Ducky. "In a few moments his assistant will inform him of an emergency that requires his attention immediately and will he pop up on that screen."

"And what happens after he learns it was all a ploy?"

"That's your area of expertise."

At the moment the wide screen began to focus on a figure: The Secretary of the Navy stared back at them.

"Special Agent Gibbs?" he said surprised to him staring back at him. This really wasn't an emergency. "What the hell do you want? You know you pulled me away from a _very_ important board meeting!"

"So I have been told," Gibbs said staring at Ducky. The older man smirked at him.

"I need to know about a mission initiated twenty years ago."

"I wasn't in office then, Gibbs, surely you knew that."

"Yes, but I'm sure this secret was passed down."

The sectary of the Navy screw up his face.

"Operation Praying Manis." He stated plainly. Gibbs watched as the Secretary of the Navy's fell.

"Only a select few of men and women know that name. There is no possible way of you knowing that name. It is classified information and only need-to-know."

Gibbs raised his brow, "Its still ongoing?" Gibbs knew, just by the way he had answered the first answer, he wasn't going to divulge any information, but instead he watch closely to his reaction.

"Classified information." He suddenly turned very red. "I don't know how the hell you managed to come across that name, but if you don't drop this investigation, it will be a breech of protocol. And I will have you arrested for conspiracy against the Navy. And I'll get your friend at the F.B.I as a co-conspirator_—"_

The secretary of Navy dissolved from the screen.

Gibbs turned back to Ducky. "That was easier than I thought."

"He was referring to Fornell as your friend at the F.B.I." Ducky nodded his head in understatement. "He had thought Fornell had told you about the operation_—_Fornell was one of those 'select few'."

Gibbs smiled.

**~:.:~  
**

Tony, McGee, and Ziva had arrived and were all sitting around the bullpen, awaiting for Gibbs' commands. Suddenly they heard his voice, as well as Ducky's. They looked up and saw them leaving MTAC. They followed them until they stepped into the bullpen.

"I suppose I shall have to re-examine the bodies Carmen had assisted me with." Ducky left for autopsy.

Gibbs sat down and starting working, but felt three pairs of eyes on him. He looked up to find his team staring back at him.

"Do you really believe Carmen did it?" McGee asked suddenly.

Gibbs didn't answer. "Tony put out a bolo on Carmen Wilson. McGee track her cell. Ziva, paperwork. Go through all the documents she may have encountered."

"What are you going to do boss?" McGee asked as he watched Gibbs stand up and head for the elevator.

"I have somewhere to be."

**~:.:~  
**

"Agent Fornell is busy at the moment_—_if you'd like to wait_—_"

Gibbs passed Fornell's assistance and opened his office door. He found Fornell speaking the phone, and hanged up when he entered.

"Gibbs? What do I owe this pleasure? Have another ex-wive you need me to marry_—_take the heat off ya?"

Gibbs smiled and sat down.

"How you doin' old timer? How's Emily?"

"She's fine, and you?_—_heard you've got a stray employee on your hands."

"News travels fast." Gibbs smiled absentmindedly.

"What are you doin' here Gibbs?" Fornell asked, suddenly serious.

Gibbs stopped smiling, and nodded. "Operation Praying Mantis." As he had watched the Sectary of the Navy, he watched Fornell, except there was no surprise shown on his face.

"Ah, hell, Gibbs_—_you're going to get both of us fired!"

Gibbs just gave him stare.

"You see, only just a little bit ago, I received this nasty little phone call from the Secretary of Navy_—_you can imagine how it went."

Gibbs nodded with a smirk on his face, but then it faded away. Fornell loved this job too much to help him. He started to get up, "Thanks for you time, Fornell_—_"

"Well don't you wanna know what I told him!?'

Gibbs stopped and turned towards his friend.

"I gave him my word I wouldn't divulge a single shred of information to you."

Gibbs shook his head, and started to leave again.

"And then I told him he could go to hell."

This stopped Gibbs in his tracks.

"I've been waiting for twenty years for someone to come along and open up this can of worms."

Gibbs titled his head, studying the man in front of him.

"I was one of those 'select few' who were debriefed on that operation. . . .What do you want to know?"

Gibbs sat back down, still staring at him, dumbfounded.

"Well, come on. I didn't put a target on my back for nothing, did I?"

Gibbs smiled, "What was the purpose of the operation."

"Homeland Security, F.B.I. and NCIS came to together and initiated the operation. The purpose was to locate and terminate terrorism."

"We do this on a daily basis. Why all the secrecy?"

"You know that funny little saying in the movies, _We don't negotiate with terrorists?_ Well that went out the window. A highly wanted-Russian terrorist was released from prison and given sanctuary from the government. On one condition. That he'd catch terrorists for the United States. He was good_—_obedient there for a while. After a while we excepted betrayal."

"Ya think!?"

"So we sent two agents in_—_assess the damage. Everything was fine for a while until one of them got themselves compromised. Under extreme torture he divulged information about our other agent. Caren Wilson_—_one of the best dam agents I ever saw. The Russian went after her. Ended up taking her and her daughter, Carmen I think it was. Poor girl. Her mother had told her about the case_—_to run to the authorities and tell them. As you can imagine, we couldn't have a little girl ranting about our top secret operation. We lead people to believe she was making up everything up." Fornell shook her head. "What we put that little girl through."

"What happened to the operation after that."

"Nothing. The operation went ahead as nothing ever happened. But we were finding out the Russian was raking up a quite a death toll. And when I heard word that we weren't going to do anything about I quit.

**~:.:~  
**

When Gibbs had left Fornell's office, he knew he was still withholding information about the operation. Gibbs demanded to know the Russian's name, but it was useless. Fornell stated it would have been impossible to track him down. If Operation Praying Mantis had gotten out the public, they would have had a riot on their hands.

Evening was approaching with no word from Carmen. The bolo was a long shot. And her cell was most likely discarded. And the paperwork was pointless. The team was getting no where with the case. Gibbs sent his team home.

And once again, Gibbs found himself in his basement, working on his boat. He had been working for something before he heard the creaks and croaks of his steps. He turned around and was surprised to see her standing before him_—_Carmen.

He couldn't guess whether she knew he knew about her past.

She appeared cool as a cucumber.

"Where have you been? You've been gone for few days." He said walking over to his worktable. He set down the tool in his hand.

"Oh, you know, _around_."

"Why are you here?"

"You know I'm not an idiot, right? We both know it would have been fool to go back to that apartment whilst bugged and under surveillance. . . . Come on, you abused me better than that." She referred to the quote, '_you taught me better than that'. _

Gibbs watched her—she was an entirely different person. He thought back on his and Ducky's conversation. She was no longer the timid, witty woman he thought she was. Instead she appeared confident, arrogant_—_reckless, and emotional unattached. And very deceptive.

"Drink?" he asked, trying to divert the conservation.

"You know before I started working with you_—_I did a bit of research," she said ignoring his offer.

"Oh really," he said, leaning his back against the edge of his work table, sipping on his bourbon.

She suddenly checked her watch.

"And what did you discover?"

"Oh plenty," she assured him with hint of sarcasm in her voice. She floated her way towards, playing and observing the tools he had left on his boat. "I find out some stuff on you_—_wanna hear?"

Gibbs pursed his lips.

"You don't take orders very well_—_authority isn't your thing, unless its you, authorizing." She picked up a chisel, and ran her finger along the sharp blade. "I made quite sure to dull myself down_—_you know, be a good student, always listen to the teacher." She smiled and put the chisel down.

Gibbs followed her very move as she circled herself around his boat. He stood, still leaning back against the counter. He made no attempts to stop her.

"And another thing. Paperwork_—_screw it!"

Gibbs smirked, "paperwork, huh?"

"Oh, yes_—_I bypassed it completely."

Gibbs suddenly wasn't smiling anymore, "what's the point of telling me all this?"

"Oh don't worry, I'm almost there, don't finish on me now."

Gibbs swallowed and licked his lips, watching her fiddling around his boat.

"Another thing I learned about you_—_was that you have this_ thing_ for red-heads_—a_ problem, you could imagine as I am naturally a red head. I had to dye my hair."

Gibbs cocked his head.

"Imagining me as a red head? I thought about giving you that lustful fantasy of a red headed woman running around the bullpen, but I decided against it."  
Carmen had stopped at the corner of the boat, closet to Gibbs.

"And then I came across a bit of information that striked me as interesting. You like women with a certain . . . dominatrix quality_—_one who questions your every command_—_kinky, Gibbs. I decided to check that off my list. You see, I needed to stay under your radar_—_just fade into the background. But you just wouldn't let it happen." Carmen had stepped closer and closer to Gibbs until she was within inches from him.

"Something just had to happen that would result you, giving me a tongue lashing_—_don't you see Gibbs? Tony was right. I've been playing you_—_I've had you wrapped around my finger since the beginning."

"So you were the one behind those innocent woman and children," he asked softly. If he hadn't, he'd have ever urge to charge her. "You murdered them."

"You must not have listened to Dr. Mallard very well. I'm psychotic_—_it's fun when you don't have a conscious_—_I'm messed up Gibbs_._ I watched my mother die in front of me. I was abused by my father daily. My actions were kind of warranted."

"Fornell did say you were mentally traumatized."

Carmen studied him. She thought intensely about what he just said. _Fornell?_

"That's putting it lightly." Carmen smiled and checked her watch again.

"And what about McGee and Ziva? And the letter? Things aren't adding up, Carmen."

"Ooo so many questions, so little time." Carmen made a motion towards the stairs, but Gibbs quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He placed his other hand on the small of her back, keeping her pushed against his body.

"I'm not . . . letting you . . . go," he said slowly, shaking his head, as if to wake himself up.

"Your kind of, going to have to."

Gibbs suddenly felt this wave of dizziness wash over him. He released his grip on her, and stumbled back.

"You . . . drugged me?"

"Well you said it yourself. You weren't going to let me go. How else was I to escape."

He felt weak_—_the drug was about to knock him out completely.

"Why'd. . . Why'd you come tonight!?" Gibbs shook his head, desperately trying to stay awake as longer possible.

Carmen smiled and walked back over to him. She held her hand against his chest for a moment, then gave him a forcefully push against the wall. She pressed her body against him and wrapped her hand around his neck. She leaned in, pressing her wet lips against his ear. She exhaled her hot breath against his cool skin. He suddenly buckled against her. The only thing holding himself up was her.

"I suppose I just wanted to see you just one last time."

She retreated back enough so their faces were inches apart. She stared into her blue orbs, as he stared back into hers. She leaned in as if she was going to kiss him, then turned her head, kissing his cheek.

"Good-bye Gibbs."

**~:.:~**

;So the evidence seems pretty clear that Carmen has been behind this whole thing! Or is it. Or Has everything been twisted to fit that theory. Or is Carmen purposely leading everyone to believe she is psychotic? And why did Carmen come to see Gibbs? She only seemed interested in gaining a little tad bit of information from him, but what?

. . .

;**Two Sides** . . . The turning point of the story! Hey back for another chapter! This is going to be an amazing one. I am so proud of myself with this one. So much stuff to learn. I really hope you like it. I made this one extremely long because I've had amazing support from you guys! Enjoy and please review!

;I can't forget to thank my awesome reviewers! : **Ryn of Magic, Nymphi16, KrazyCookieRaider, dg101, stAnd out - SHOUT OUT, bored411**, and **Thickalicious.  
**Love you guys!

;Oh for those we have been with me for a while, I've update chapter 1-7. They are now worth a read through again.


	13. Old, Mister Fornell

**~:.:~**

Tobias Fornell, of the Federal Bureau Investigation agency, sat in his office late the evening his friend, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, had paid him an unexpected visit regarding a highly classified operation he had been a part of. Gibbs had taken him by surprise. He had no idea where Gibbs had given en-tell about the operation. All documentation had been destroyed, thereafter then never written or spoken of again. Had there been a leak? Or knowing Gibbs—a guilty plead, followed by an intense gaze into your soul, and eventually details revealed. It was too easy for the man. But Fornell seriously doubted that be that case. How had he been aware of the name of the operation. He didn't know—or care too much. As he had known the man for many, many years, Gibbs' involvement was ultimate for the greater-good. But throughout his conversation with his friend, he still wondered aimlessly how. It racked Tobias well into the dark of night. He hadn't noticed at all the clearing of the floor and office cubicals, until his assistant interrupted his thoughts and announced the lateness of the hour.

He had given a half-hearted excuse and promised he would be leaving momentarily, but he had made no attempts to leave. She sighed, brows raised. It was strange, he thought in those brief seconds. He had a very strange relationship with his assistant. She wasn't afraid to state her opinion and she had made that very clear on the first day. It was common to hear her hound on him about how late he would always work. Almost every night. He sometimes wondered who wore the pants in this relationship.

After he made no attempt to leave, she shook her head and closed the door behind her. He could have sworn he heard her mumble_ stubborn_ and _bull_ under her breath.

He shut his eyes rubbing the soreness away, before titling his head back against the back of his chair. _Maybe I'm getting too old for this, _he sighed. He was tired and weary, yet in his old age he was still enjoying his work, although he felt he could be getting the sack anytime—let some young blood move-up the chain of command. He shook away those thoughts.

He was certainly thankful for the slumber party Emily had been invited to. Otherwise he would have had to leave work earlier in the evening. He smiled—if it wasn't for his Emily, he didn't know whether he would have been making it through life. He had no one to love or to be loved—except for his baby girl. He smiled again—she had just turned thirteen—she was practically a teenager. He was so grateful she certainly did not act like one. He suddenly frowned—_she_ had also just turned thirteen. The little girl whom he had practically send to her death. A grasped escaped his lips. Oh, how he felt such guilt for what he had done. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to wipe his mind clear of _her._ _I am so sorry Caren. I betrayed my word, and our love_ . . . .

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

_"I'll get the door," a girl squealed from inside the house, followed by heavy stomps gradually getting louder as the girl neared the door._

_The man waiting outside the door quickly adjusted his tie and folded down his collar. He was nervously re-positioning the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands when the door was suddenly wrenched opened._

_"Are those for me!?" squealed the girl again, eyes roaming vigorously over the flowers in his hands. The man smiled at the girl, then caught a glimpse of a woman in the foreground sticking her head out of the kitchen, armed with oven mites and a pan. She was smiling, watching him as her daughter bombarded him. She was smiling and winked to him before she disappeared back into the kitchen._

_The man turned back to the girl in front of him and replied, "of course, my dear. Bought them especially for you."_

_She squealed again, "Thank you so much Mister Fornell," and skipped into the house. "They're just so lovely. I'll find a vase to put these in."_

_Grinning, the man stepped into the house, instantly inhaling the delicious aroma sprouting from the kitchen. "What is you mother cooking tonight, Carmen? It smells absolutely delicious."_

_Carrying a glass vase with his flowers, Carmen reentered the living room, and set them down on the coffee table. " My favorite—" She paused and crept up very close to him. "I suspect an early birthday dinner since mom has to work on my birthday. I'm turning thirteen in a few days." She looked at him with puppy eyes. "You wouldn't by chance know, would you?"_

_Smiling down at the girl, he shrugged his shoulder, but then with a mischief smile, winked at the last moment. "Didn't hear it from me."_

_She smiled at him and skipped down the hall to her bedroom. He followed her with his eyes and as soon as she disappeared, he made his way towards the kitchen. He caught another whiff of the aroma exasperating from the kitchen._

_Rounding the corner to the kitchen, he abruptly stopped upon sight of her. He swallowed hard, grinning as he watched her. Her back was to him. She was swaying back an forth to the light music playing. She had on a kiss the cook apron—he knew because he had helped, more than once, cook dinner with her. And it was one of the more pleasurable times they spent together. They had started to grew closer together as their professional work progressed._

_He smirked and crept up behind her. He slowly—purposely slide his hands around her waist, drawing her against his body. The woman stirred underneath his grip, a groan escaping her lips. He smiled an berried his face into the nape of her neck and hair. He breathed in her scent and exhaled hot air against her skin. Another moan escaped her lips and her knees buckled against him. He smirked at the woman he held in his arms. She was considerably younger than him by thirteen years. She was thirty-three and his employee. He was forty six and her boss. This relationship was forbidden, yet . . . exhilarating._

_He berried his face into her neck again, but this time started a trail of kisses down her neck. She giggled and tired to wiggle out his grip, but they both knew he wasn't going to let her go. Following her reaction, he pushed his pelvis into her back, and began rocking her side to side, swaying to the music playing._

_"You smell delicious," he said, placing a soft kiss behind her earlobe._

_"Tobias, you sneaky little hellion. You have no idea what you do to me."_

_He chuckled, his hot breath tickling her neck._

_She couldn't take anymore of his teasing. She twisted in his arms, finally facing him. She wrapped her own arms around his back, smiling up to him._

_He shifted slightly, pushing her against the kitchen island with his arms still wrapped around her waist. He leaned his face closer to her, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He held her tightly in his arms, savoring the swell forming in his stomach. She made him feel so young again. Then he suddenly broke off kiss. He opened his eyes, grinning as he watched her face searched for his lips._

_Without opening her eyes, she twisted around and faced the island counter, obviously disappointed he broke off the kiss. "You think you as some slick, smooth going stud? Don't you?"_

_Although he couldn't see her face, he smiled and drew her close in his arms again, and placed a kiss underneath her earlobe again. "I don't think, I know."_

_She laughed, and replied, "Hey, mister," she twisted again, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was suddenly serious. She licked her lips. "I think I like you."_

_He was perfectly still, searching her eyes. After he made no attempt to reply, she shook her head and spun away from him.  
_

_She felt a sudden weight on her hips, and was suddenly spun around. She faced him again. He had grabbed her hips and forced her to face him. He was quiet, then, "I like you, too."_

_She was still. Both searching each other eyes. Then the corners of her lips formed into a large smile. She kissed him forcefully, the kiss promising much, then she pulled away from him._

_"Well, whose the tease now?"_

_She smiled and kissed him again._

_Suddenly foot steps could be heard in the hallway._

_Caren lightly pushed Tobias away from her._

_Tobias frowned. He watched her glance over his shoulder._

_"When are you going to tell Carmen? that we have been seeing each other for the few months?"_

_She smiled at his family values and kissed him. Serious now, she pulled away. "It's just with Carmen' father . . . he's a crazy—"_

_"Bastard, I know. Caren, he stalked your house at night, and even broke into your house. She doesn't need that in her life. She needs—"_

_"You?"_

_He froze. It was exactly what he was planning on going to say. But what he didn't how she would respond.  
_

_He relaxed when she smiled._

_"Carmen thinks the world of you. I don't want this to be something—then somehow we screw it up and it ends . . . I like you too much for you to leave me. . . . I just don't want Carmen getting her hopes up, then have them crushed."_

_He understood. He watched her eyes glisten. Wheel were turning in her head—about something she had given a lot of thought about.  
_

_"Just make me a promise—if something happens to me—on this operation—"_

_He knew where this was heading. "Nothing is about to happen—"_

_"You know the risks involved. Promise me Carmen will not go to her father. You are the only one I trust. That Carmen trusts. Promise me you'll look after her if—if I don't come back."_

_"Caren—"_

_"Promise me!"_

_". . . I promise."_

Fornell's eyes fluttered open; his pulse beating, his mind racing, and his heart . . . hurting. _Caren,_ he whispered, a knife piercing through his conscious. What had he done!? . . . _What have I done? Caren if only . . . things had turned out differently. . ._ . He shook his head._ I am so sorry. For you and Carmen.  
_

Agent Tobias Fornell had met Caren Wilson when the operation was first initiated. Many applicants for the undercover assignment were highly-trained, qualified, and ready for the operation. They were put through various challenges and tests to determine who was both mental and physical fit for the task at hand. Many who were interviewed were from various agencies including F.B.I, NCIS, Homeland Security, and the Marines. The best of the best. Specifics were never specified until two the agents were chosen. The various interviewers were given information on the basics of what was needed. As Agent Fornell was one of the original advocates of the mission, he was apart of the progress to chose the two agent to go undercover. The two agents chosen for Operation Praying Mantis was Homeland Security agent Robert Miller and Marine Caren Wilson.

Fornell was rather taken with the marine's determination and quirky attitude. After months of debriefing and further training, he was admittedly attracted to the agent. As the operation continued he could feel himself growing very fond of their relationship. Late hours turned into morning coffee, which lead to late dinners, eventually leading into a lust-filled and passionate affair. He was soon engulfed with the agent, as she was with him. She eventually introduction him to her daughter, Carmen, although as "a friend of the family's." She invited him to dinner almost every night of the week. He was enjoying the company of this woman.

Of course their relationship was hidden and kept secret from their work. If ever the agencies had learned of their affair, considering they were both involved in the highly-top secret operation, they would court marshaled immediately. . . . They had also kept their affair from Caren's daughter, Carmen. Caren did not want to rush their lust-filled relationship per-maturely. They felt, although never discussed this together, that once the operation was over, their relationship would end. They both feared that event. . . .

Fornell had also decided to kept that little detail to himself when the operation took a turn for the worst—when he had found out about Caren—he never reported their relationship. Not even to her daughter. And he had kept this private from Gibbs, too—when he came a knocking. He didn't see how it was relevant to the questions Gibbs were asking. And still, Fornell did not know how Gibbs became aware of the operation. . . .

He shook his head, his guilty-filled conscious eating at his stomach. _I am so sorry. For you and Carmen._

"You know, I had always known about the two of you."

Fornell, who had been facing opposite the door in his chair, at the sudden presence in the room, spun around and faced the person standing in the door of his office. Fornell blinked the glaze that had formed on his eyes away and gazed upon the woman leaning against the door frame of his office. . . . A gasp escaped his mouth. Were his eyes betraying him? Was the woman who has been haunting his dreams at night really standing before him? She looked as exactly as the way she had the very last time he saw her. Then memories came flooding into his mind, both good and painful memories: long, beautiful chestnut hair, chocolate colored eyes . . .

Faintly, he breathed, "Caren?"

The woman before him smiled, her eyes glistening with a warm remembrance of a familiar face. It seemed almost like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

The slice of happiness he felt when he thought he saw her, suddenly drained from him. It was not Caren who stood before. The woman before him was not at all like Caren he remembered. The woman in front of him was wearing a small, black leather jacket, tight blue jeans tucked into calf-length black boots, and her hair lay loosely over her shoulders. She was not Caren. . . . could it be? Was it—

"Carmen."

The woman smiled warmly at the man sitting behind the desk. "Hello Tobias, its been awhile."

His heart was racing. He could literally hear his heart beat in his ears. Was this a strange coincidence? Gibbs had just visited him, asking questions about the operation, which sparked his guilt all over again. And here, in front of him, stood the little girl—woman that haunts his dreams. This couldn't be a coincidence. It was impossible. He hadn't had seen her for how many years?

"Twenty years," she answered for him, his thoughts easily read on his face. "I'm three-thirty, just as—"

"Your mother was," he interrupted. He looked uneasy.

Carmen smiled from the doorway at his remembrance for her mother. "May I?" she asked, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. He seemed a bit off guard, and nodded, "Uh, yes, of course, just move those stacks of paper to the floor." She smiled and sat down in the chair.

"You know, I had always had that feeling you were very fond of my mother." She smiled warmly as memories flooded her mind. "The flowers, the dinners, the way you would smile at her."

"You knew, you knew about us?"

She smirked and replied, "I was thirteen not blind." She giggled at his surprised face. "The two of you weren't exactly ambiguous."

Twenty years had passed. He had never spoken about his to anyone, and yet now, the conversation was easily flowing—especially for Carmen. She was easily speaking about her past about with him. She hadn't even been in his office for a whole five minutes.

"But up until recently, did I think you were just a "friend of the family"—who really liked my mother's cooking, a lot." She frowned. "But it turns out you were her co-worker, well, actually her boss, on the operation." She smiled and shook her head. "All this time—I never put the two-and-two together. You were F.B.I, she was a marine . . . All this time—all my effort and work I've put in—and all I had to do was pay, old, Mister Fornell a visit."

Fornell was lost. Effort? Her work? What was she talking about?

"I've dedicated my entire life's work for the finding of answers. . . . I've manipulated. Lied. And apparently the answers have been dangling right in front of my eyes. . . . You. Tobias. Will set me free. "

Fornell stayed silence, slowly digesting the words from Carmen's mouth. He started to connect the dots.

"Carmen I just want to tell you how sorry I am—about what happened to you and your mother—I should have—"

"Tobias its okay." Carmen curled her lip into her mouth. "Truly. I have never held anything against you." She smiled. "I'm just glad my mother found someone who truly appreciated her—"

"I didn't appreciate her." Fornell watched the smile fade away on her face. "I loved your mother. I do truly did. And not a day has gone by, that I don't think of her or you." Fornell shook his head. "I am so sorry Carmen. Please. I could never ask for your forgiveness—"

Fornell had gone on a guilt rant and stopped when he felt a warm squeeze on his hand. He looked down to find Carmen leaning across his desk and squeezing his hand.

"No need for forgiveness when I've never held you accountable. . . . I just wanted to stop by. Caught up with an old friend." She smiled.

Fornell's heart melted; she was smiling, and her eyes were gleaming into the light.

"You look so much like your mother, it pains me to look at you."

Carmen smiled brightly and edged towards the door.

Fornell frowned as he realized she was leaving. He didn't want her to leave. They had just started talking—Carmen noticed his disappointment.

She smiled, "Lets get a bite to eat and we can continue talking." She thought he would like that but he didn't appear to like her suggestion. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

Carmen noticed a change in Tobias' behavior. He had suddenly stiffened in his chair, and was acting strange. She watched him carefully. After a few moments had passed, she began to relax, then she suddenly tensed where she stood. She saw it—in the split of a second, in the blink of an eye, Fornell's eyes shifted to something behind her, then back to to her. She knew something was wrong. Fornell had began to sweat, and appeared uneasy in his chair. . . . There was someone behind her. . . . Someone who he recognized. It could not have been Gibbs—for he was passed out on his basement floor. And no one else knew the connection between her and Fornell, unless . . .

"You know, eavesdropping on anothers' conversation is considered rather rude. . . . Tony."

"Yes, well," Tony said, stepping from the shadows into the light shining out from Fornell's office light. "I do admit my bed-side manners are pretty lax for cereal killers."

From behind his desk, Fornell glanced between Carmen and Tony, sensing an incredible tension lay between them. Fornell frowned, _Cereal killers? What the hell was Tony coming on about?_ Fornell's eyes come to rest on Carmen. Her face was still, but her eyes flickered with fear. Though with the presence of Tony behind him, Carmen stared straight forward for him, ignoring the man behind her. She was there for him, it seemed. The threatening presence behind her was not important. It was just him and her. It was as if Carmen was trying to send him a message. But at the moment he was not quite sure what it was about.

Fornell watched as Tony's figure neared Carmen, who was standing in the door frame. Her muscles were tense and her jaw was taunt. He watched Tony step with inches of her back, with a face of stilled-rage. Fornell noticed a change in her behavior. Before Tony came, she was genuinely sincerely and warmly affectionate towards him, but to Tony, she was spiteful and cynical. Why was she acting differently towards him than Tony? Was she purposely acting differently towards him? Fornell eyed the two agents.

After a few moments of tense silence, Tony closed the gap between him and Carmen. Her back still facing him. He actually preferred her that way. He stood inches from her back.

Carmen continued to stand facing Fornell, ignoring Tony behind her. She didn't care about Tony, and what he was about to do. She needed Fornell. Only Fornell. But her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she felt something hard press into her back.

"Give me a reason," he whispered, pressing the gun in his right hand harder into her back. His face was inches from her left ear. "You threatened my family.

Carmen could feel his mouth forming into a wicked smile against her neck.

"I must—happily inform you, you are under arrest for the murder of countless, "Tony grabbed and twisted Carmen's arm behind her, "women," he twisted harder, "and innocent children," and harder on her arm until a whimper escape her lips. "You have the right to remain silent." Tony twisted harder, and pushed higher. "Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."

Fornell was confused. He had jumped from his chair and was demanding an answer. "What the hell are you doing Tony!?"

Neither Tony or Carmen obliged an explanation. But as Carmen could sense the final moments she would have with Fornell, she stared into eyes. He searched back, fishing through for chocolate brown eyes for her answers. She was in desperate need of him—his help? his assistance? What? She still needed answers.

Now with a grip on both of her arms, Tony wrenched Carmen from the doorway, and into the opposite wall in the hallway. Tony pressed his form against her back, keeping her well against the wall. Tony handcuffed her without a struggle. . . . She hadn't given him one, which he thought was strange, but revenge—

"Vengeance can be sweet, yet a very dastardly thing, Tony," Carmen breathed through her clenched teeth.

"Oh you have no idea how happy I am feeling right now—justice is sweeter than revenge."

"Oh I will, know, justice. Very soon. If its the last thing I do. I will feel. Justice."

**~:.:~**

;So . . . Tobias and Carmen's mother? Never excepted that didjya? So Tony had followed Carmen? And finally Carmen has been caught. Will the truth come out? Will Carmen even explain the truth? To Gibbs? To anyone? What's her plan? And what about Tobias? Will he out-her truth? Or will he help her escape? And Emily's 13? oh, no. That's can't be good. And what will be Gibbs be thinking when he wipes the drool from face on his basement floor? Don't wanna miss that ;) Thanks for all of your guys' feedback. Threat #123,345,678: I'll put gum underneath your space bar. You'llbetypinglikethis;) . . . hehe ;)

; Oh, my words. I truly feel awful for letting my next update slide so long. .

. . .

; Whooooot! Thanks to this peeps who are awesome! **DS2010, Nymphi16, Ryn of Magic, bored411, KrazyCookieRaider, 4ENZCHIC, dg101, **and** Myzeri.** Thank you for keeping my fire lit!


	14. Pennies

**~:.:~_  
_**

_How has it come to this, _thought the doctor as he peered through the two-way mirror. He shook his head lightly as he watched Carmen from the other room. _This all has happened so quickly—gawd, poor girl. Only had I seen these signs earlier—before I had made my recommendation to the director. Maybe things would have never had to come to this. _Ducky closed his eyes, thinking of all the things this woman had been put through in her life—especially those that have led to this event. Although Ducky desperately wanted to believe Carmen's innocent regarding the murders those of women and children, Ducky sadly found himself considering all the facts; her harsh childhood, having had to endure her mother's dead and her father's continuous abuse for years; these psychotic phenomenons including her mental and social behaviors towards work and her co-workers; and the non-disreputable facts regarding her employment at NCIS. _I'm afraid the pieces to this puzzle fit too perfectly too overlook your innocents as just a very strange coincidence. I am so sorry, my dear girl. . . .  
_

_I still can not believe what I have been told,_ scuffed Ziva as she thought back on what Tony had discovered about Carmen. _I had no idea Carmen had lived such a childhood. I don't think anyone had known._ She surveyed the room full of bodies. _Ducky may have been the exception though, _Ziva thought as she side glanced to the doctor. He had a somber expression upon his face._ Yes, he had been definitely aware of her situation. Probably is eating him alive__. He had been closer to her than any of us had. _She glanced towards McGee and Tony.___ I don't think any of us knew her at all. _Ziva frowned and turned back to the mirror.___ I too, know, how a hard childhood can lead you into a dark corner. . . . I was just lucky enough to escape it before it had completely consumed me. . . ._  


___And to think I share my house with a . . . a . . . cereal__—_oh, gawd, Carmen. I am so sorry. I want to believe so badly_—_to believe that you are innocent, but . . . but I just can't. Ashamed for having given up on her friend, Abby's eyes found the floor.___ As a forensic scientist, it is my duty to follow where the evidence leads me. . . . And I admit, sometimes I don't like where it does__—_lead me. Abby choked, her eyes beginning to swell with tears_. _She suddenly felt a warm squeeze on her arm. She looked up to find McGee wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. She couldn't control herself anymore_—_she buried her face in his chest, weeping quietly in his arms. McGee wrapped his other arm around his crying friend and pulled her back into the back of the room, out of the way of his co-workers. "Thank you McGee," Abby whispered, almost too inaudible to hear as her face was buried in his chest.

_Oh, please,_ Tony rolled his eyes at his over-emotional friend. _She's guilt as the raising sun. Just look at her_, he turned back to the woman handcuffed in the metal chair in the interrogation room. He smirked. After he had arrested Carmen in Fornell's office, he had brought her straight to that room. He had sat her down where she was now, cuffing her hands to the back of the chair and left her. He had left her alone, submerged in complete darkness for the entire night. _Just wait until Gibbs gets here,_ he smirked again. Tony had followed Carmen to Gibbs' home and again, after she left. She had drove directly to the FBI agency. He couldn't imagine why._ A bit risky_, he had thought. Then he discovered this . . . this operation. He still did not understand why Carmen went to Fornell. And what was relevant about him in this case. He had yet to learn the truth behind the operation. And after locking Carmen to the chair, he returned to Gibbs' place to tell him the news_—_except he discovered him passed out on this basement floor. Tony had inspected Gibbs and his surrounding, and discovered he had been drinking_—_bourbon, of course, and called Abby in to inspect the bottle and it contains. Carmen's finger prints were all over the bottle and Gibbs' bourbon had been laced a sedative, rending Gibbs_—_well useless. Tony could not wait wait until Gibbs started his interrogation on Carmen. He turned back to the mirror and smiled at the woman who was about to receive his revenge.

_What is going on here!? I'm gone; sick for two days and they have Carmen in handcuffs?_ Palmer shook his head, clueless at what he was witnessing._ I was only gone for two days . . . Why is it I always miss the good stuff!? _Palmer frowned._ I mean______—_not that this_____ is good______—_its bad, very bad.   


Vance could feel the heat raising in his face. His blood was boiling as he watched his employee sit calmly in the next room. His knuckles were turning a shade of white-pink as he squeezed the back on the chair. He had been notified about Carmen's childhood and her possible psychotic disease, and had been debriefed on all the cases involving the women and children. One thing, though, concerned him: the lack of physical evidence connecting Carmen to these murders. Vance, did agree, on Ducky's evaluation of Carmen's health. He too, had noticed a dramatic change in Carmen's behavior. He on more than one occasion, had invited Carmen to his office to discuss her continuous tardiness and outlook he had observed with her about her work effect. Vance, as of this minute, had every impulse to barge into that room and interrogate Carmen himself. He wanted to, very badly. But Gibbs insisted he would be there momentarily as he had just woken himself up off his basement floor. Normally Vance would not have not listened and proceeded with the interrogation himself, but something in Gibbs' voice told him to stay put. Something in Gibbs' voice told him, only one person would be waking out of that room. . . .

Tobias Fornell watched the woman on the other side of the glass. She was calm and composed. It was not evident she had been sitting in that chair close to eight hours. She was strong weld, _just like her mother_, he thought. He shook his head at the theories about Carmen. He had not realized Carmen was Gibbs' employee who had strayed. When she had shown up at his door, he had not realized she _even_ was working for Gibbs. But as his co-workers, cramped in this little space together, sprouted theories against Carmen and tried to connect the murders with the loose link that Carmen was a psychotic who was traumatized by her past_____—_it absolutely made him sick. They, including Gibbs, only knew half her story. Fornell had not revealed all the information about the operation to Gibbs, including his relationship with Carmen's mother. He instead, stayed quiet in the corner, watching Carmen from behind the glass. _What have you gotten yourself into._ As he watched Carmen he could feel a set of angry eyes on him_____—_Tony's. Fornell knew Tony wanted to question him about why Carmen had showed up to his office. Fornell knew Tony had not heard a word about his and Carmen's relationship_____—_no one knew for that matter. Therefore after Carmen's arrest, Fornell continued to give Tony the cold-shoulder. He did not want anymore to know the truth. He turned back to the woman. _My dear, Carmen._

"Tony, why did you insist that Carmen remain in that chair _all night_?" Ziva had stepped by Tony's side and leaned closely to Tony's face.

" 'Cause, _Zee-vah_," Tony replied in a hush, defensive voice. "She deserves it."

"She has not been proven guilty, _Toe-knee_," Ziva replied in the same voice. "It's cruel."

Tony rolled his eyes, "says the Mossad assassin. . . . You've done worst."

Ziva grinned her teeth. "Maybe, Tony. But she was _our_ friend."

Tony made a 'tsk' sound and turned back to the mirror.

As Ziva and Tony were carrying on their own little conversation, Vance confronted Ducky, who was standing next Fornell.

"If Carmen is proved guilty_____—_right now___—_Ducky are you willing to testify against Carmen in court?" Vance, already fully aware of Ducky's affection for the woman, knew this was going to be a difficulty question for the doctor to answer. He glanced at Fornell who stiffened at the question.

"As much affection I_____—_" Ducky held his breath. "Hold for Carmen. It is my civil duty, as an NCIS employee to be as true to my evaluation as possible. And as I have_____—_already informed Gibbs. Carmen is_____—_yes." Ducky paused. Ducky died a little inside. "Of the psychotic impulses_____—_she must be watched over."

Vance nodded, and placed a kind hand on the doctor's shoulder. "That's reassuring to hear."

As Vance and Ducky were carrying on with little conversation, Abby cuddled with McGee in the back of the room.

"Tony can't be right about Carmen_____—_he just can't."

McGee sighed. "Let's hope Tony is wrong, then_____—_" McGee stopped of finishing his sentence, when Tony's and Ziva conversation started to get heat.

"Tony, you are absolutely are acting like a child. We have little to nothing linking her to these cases. Alls' we have is Ducky's evaluation."

"Are you saying Ducky's evaluation is faulted!?"

"Man can make mistakes_____—_" Ziva turned to Ducky. "No offense Ducky."

Ducky shrugged his shoulder, and replied, "I am hoping, too, my evaluation has fault_____—_but as I have taken a considerable of amount time to evaluation Miss Wilson. I sadly doubt it_____—_unless___________—_"

Ziva, Abby, and McGee had been hanging on every word the doctor was saying; that there could possible be another explain for this whole mess. And as Ducky said _unless_, everyone held there breath. _____  
_

"She's been faking these psychotic symptoms."

Confused, Ziva's brows knitted together. "Why on earth would she do that? For what purpose."

Ducky shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea."

The conversation in the room fell silence, and they all turned their gaze back to the woman in the other room.

Tony had fallen silent as Ducky had explained his thoughts. It seemed him and Vance_____—_and mostly Gibbs thought Carmen was completely guilty. He had to have the last word.

"And what about Fornell?" Tony said out-of-the-blue.

"And _what_ about Fornell," Fornell piped up with harsh tone.

Tony whipped around to face the voice behind him. He looked surprised. "Oh, forget you were here."

Fornell's brows were raised, waiting for Tony's eager explanation.

"Um, she came there to kill you, didn't she!?" Tony said nervously

Fornell knew he had seconds to think of an answer. He glanced at the women in the other room. _This is for your own good. _

"Tony if you hadn't of gotten there the time you did_____—_" Fornell made a gester with his hands. "Ca-poot. I may not be standing here." Fornell's eyes carried to everyone in the room. "I believe Tony's is right. She was there to do-me-off."

"But why," Abby said wiping the wetness from her eyes. "What do you have to do with anything!?"

"Gibbs had confined in me with your investigation. She had told me, last night, she had planned to kill Gibbs, but she couldn't after learning Gibbs had told me about her. . . . she had come to silence me. . . . I thank you, Tony."

Tony was grinning ear from ear. Not upon the notation he had received a 'thank you' from Fornell, but for the fact he had another person convinced of Carmen's guilt.

Everyone suddenly stopped short of what they were doing_____—_even breathing. In the other room the door opened. _Its time._

"Why don't we start where we left off," Gibbs said, pulling the metal slowly from the table, its legs scratching on the floor.

Pursing her lip together, Carmen titled her head to the side and smiled. "Well . . . then we're going to need an empty bottle of bourbon and a cement floor."

A hot flush crept down Gibbs' cheeks. His face was without emotion, yet his eyes were piercing daggers as he stared deeply into her eyes. A sudden passion of rage overwhelmed him so intensely it sent him over the table to the woman across from him. With this uncontrollable feeling, Gibbs snatched Carmen's jacket collar in his hands, and pulled her body and the chair she was chained to within inches from his face. With her hands cuffed behind her back and to the chair, Carmen was forced atop her tip-toes; her back feeling a biting pain as the metal chair dug into her skin and her thighs pinned between the table and the chair.

Carmen winced at the sudden and unexpected pain, but as she realized it was Gibbs' intention to make her scared, her face went blank_____—_she knew it would enrage him further_____—_she smiled even.

"Your lovely, and quite a delight when your angry," Carmen quipped, smirking profusely within inches of his face.

"I'm not playing your games," Gibbs retorted, a fire building in his stomach.

"Aww," she frowned. "But I thought we were having so much fun together_____—_" Carmen stopped short on her sentence, having felt the pain deepen in her legs. Gibbs had pulled her closer, pivoting her feet and her body against the metal desk; the desk starting to bite harder into her thighs. But as the initial wave of pain weakened, the corners of Carmen's lips twitched into a grin.

"You have no idea how turned on I am right," Carmen grinned, gazing back into his eyes. Carmen was going to turn his angry into action. His action into regret. His regret to her advantage.

Gibbs' face redden. He had every impulse to strike her, but he would never allow himself to lose control. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm his obvious temper down. Never had he lost it with a suspect. Never had he had to resort to pain and suffering to get answers. He tightened his grip on her collar.

"Tell me what I want to know or I'll personally escort you to_____—_"

"What _you _want to know?" she asked quietly, then built momentum as she went along. "Agent Gibbs, bringing personal emotions into this interrogation room is very unprofessional. . . . As a citizen of this United States I request another agent to question me. And I do believe you must comply to my wishes."

Gibbs' face was stern, contemplating his next decision. There was a loud bang in the room. Gibbs had dropped Carmen and the chair back to the floor, a loud thud piercing the room. He moved around the table with a sudden anger that when he hit his thigh with the corner of the table, a sudden pain raged through him, making him shove the desk across the room. The desk slide in front of the door. There were sounds of banging on the other side, his co-workers trying to get into the room to stop him, but the metal table prevented them.

He took his gaze from the table to the woman handcuffed to the chair. She was smiling brightly back at him.

"I never thought I'd see the great, Leroy Jethro Gibbs loose his temper like that," she said smiling at him. "Actually I never thought I'd be one to do that to you. . . . This is so exciting."

Gibbs was centered in the room, gazing down at the woman. He didn't say anything. His breathing was heavy, but controlled.

"Is this supposed to be scaring me? Because its rather having the opposite effect on me. . . ."

Gibbs' eyes fell to the floor, and replied very calmly, "I know about your childhood, Carmen. I know about everything. About how it had corrupted you. . . . Please. Carmen."

Carmen stared at him, calculating his actions.

"You know Gibbs, I couldn't have said it better myself. . . . Its about time you started to understand me. . . . And for your information. You don't have a clue in your head that even remotely begins to translate _me_."

"Is that so?"

Carmen answered with a quick upward motion of her eyebrows. "Yes."

Gibbs was screaming on the inside, but he ascended to the desk and slide it back into place. Just as he pulled the pressure from the door, three agents fell into the room. Gibbs stared down at Tony, Ziva, and McGee.

"Get. Out. Of. Here." He scolded and slammed the door in their faces. He found the chair and sat down across from the woman.

"See how un-nessessary that all was. . . . And all you had to say was the magic word."

Watching his face grow calm, she frowned. "But before I reveal my deepest, darkest secrets to you, I want something in return.

Gibbs scolded, "You want me something from me!?"

Carmen smiled warmly. "Well since you offered." She shifted in her chair, straightening higher to her height. ". . . A dictionary."

"A dictionary," he repeated skeptically.

"But not just _any_ old dictionary. A very particular one, confiscated by the FBI twenty years from a Russian terrorist. . . .Get me that and I'll tell you all you want. . . Because I know how much your curiosity is killing you right now. You desperately wanted to know the answers."

Gibbs shook his head. "No," he hushed.

Carmen shrugged her shoulders and look away from him. "Well, then, we are going to be here for a long time, considering I'll never reveal what you want to know, . . . unless I have that book in my hands." She titled her head, a smirk forming on her lips. She knew he was going to comply. "Please, pretty, Mister Gibbs, sir." She batted her eyes at him. "Just this one, little request."

"Then I want some form of a faith payment. . . ."

Carmen pursed his lips, considering his words carefully. After a few moments, she grinned. "One question. One answer."

Gibbs nodded, and stared at her intensely. This was a very important question. He needed to get it right.

"Why?" he whispered underneath his breath; the pain obvious on his face.

"Why, is such a general question. _Why_ do I like black coffee? _Why_ do I shop at the local grocery store? What!? You sure you don't want to ask another. I'll give you another chance."

Gibbs' eyes flashed to the table then back to Carmen.

"Did you have someone shoot McGee with an adultered bullet?"

"So many questions, yet you ask me this one," she mused. Carmen eyed the man across from her very closely, then she smiled. "You, Agent Gibbs are truly, a brilliant strategist. . . I see right through your attempt to trick me. If you just so happened, not obtain the book, then your odds of prosecuting me are slim, due to lack of physical evidence. So, instead, you ask a question that surely would prosecute me . . . its your little back-up isn't it. . . . Well, Gibbs I am a woman of my word. And, yes, to answer your question, I did have someone to shoot McGee with an adultered bullet."

"Did you also have someone hurt Ziva!?" Gibbs' voice raising with every syllable.

"When did we start playing twenty questions!?" she quipped, serious now.

Gibbs' glared at her remark.

She smiled, "You know, its been killing me to reveal this little ink-let of information to you all. . . . You've all been such an excellent pond in my game." Carmen shifted her gaze to the glass, somehow finding Tony. " . . . Specifically you Tony. Your performance really helped me get the job done. . . . It really must be eating at you, that you help me_____—_and brilliantly if I may add. You really were the one to make this all possible for me."

Gibbs didn't know how to deal with her. She was truly psychotic. Gibbs did not answer her, but his actions were enough to answer for him.

"Gibbs, dear, don't take to longer to retrieve the book. . . . You know where I'll be."

Gibbs stepped into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. He looked up finding his co-workers staring back at him.

"You're not actually going to make a deal with her," Tony demanded. "You never make deals. You never settle."

"Gibbs!" A voiced yelled behind them. Fornell came running down the hallway. "Gibbs. . . . Emily. She's gone. Someone took her."

**~:.:~**

Carmen had been taken into a NCIS custody. They placed her in a square prison, centered in the middle of the room; bars of steel surrounding her on all sides. She was resting on her bunk, when the door to the outer room opened. She watched him step as close to the bar as he could, staring down at woman in front of him.

"Where is she!?"

Carmen could feel a sudden drop in her stomach as she stared back at the frantic man before her. He was out-of-breath, his chest heaving with every inhale of air. She knew what his concerns were about but as she was confided to a jail cell and a security camera recording her every action and sound, her options were limited to reach-out to the man before her. She had to continue with her cover.

Carmen shrugged her shoulders, and looked away as if she didn't care. "Who?"

"Don't play coy with me gawd dam it! . . . I know you know."

Carmen looked away, unable to met his eyes. She lightly nodded her head, looking down at the floor.

Fornell noticed her sudden change in behavior. It had changed the same way as the night before. Before Tony had came, she was genuinely sincerely and warmly affectionate towards him, but then as Tony had arrive, she flipped a switch, becoming spiteful and cynical. He had witnessed this again with her interrogation with Gibbs. He had not recognized the woman acting before him. He was astounded about the way she talked and acted. As if this was just a sick game to her. But now, as he stood before her, she had instantly changed. Transformed within a blink of an eye—then he thought back to the debriefing before Carmen's interrogation. Ducky announced her possible psychotic disorder including symptoms of a split-personally . . . was this what he was witnessing? Were these sudden changes of behavior due to a split-personally disorder? Then what Ducky said afterwards flashed in his mind—She could be faking these psychotic symptoms. But why!? Nothing was adding up or making any sense. What was he suppose to think!?

That the woman, who had be absent in his life for twenty years, just pops out-of-the-blue as a psychotic nut, going off and killing women and children to due to her childhood? That the woman, once who he had affectionately cared deeply about, was twisted? He could not believe it. But nothing was adding up. Then again everything was adding against her favor.

"You knew, didn't you! . . . The look on your face tells me you knew—that this would happen to Emily!?"

Carmen glanced to the security camera in the corner of her cell, then back at Fornell.

Fornell noticed her sudden attention to the camera, but he was too emotional to use rationing thinking.

"It was no coincidence you came to see me last night, was it!? You planned on getting caught so you would have an alibi for Emily's kidnapping. I swear to Gawd, if you are behind this—I'll—"

"Tobias lets not make promises you know you won't be able to keep."

He was breathing heavy, his chest pounding from within.

Carmen stood up and walked to him, only the bars separating him. She leaned in very close, her back to the camera and whispered,"Tobias, I want you to tell you a story."

He shook his head, "I don't have time for you—I need to find my daughter."

He started to leave, but Carmen reached through the bar and grabbed his arm. He turned forcefully and looked back at her. He watched her glance at the camera again and back to him.

Now that she had his attention she began.

"You know, after everything had happened—my mother's murder, custody battle with my father, and eventually my father's abuse . . . Well I always found myself thinking about you. Wondering why had you abandoned me. You just disappeared from my life. I never saw you again after her death. I didn't understand why you left me alone. I felt . . . betrayed."

"If you are trying to manifest sympathy for me . . . for your crimes, I'll have no part in listening."

"Fornell—wait. After I went back to my father. His abuse was stronger than ever. I found myself, thinking of every excuse to never go home. Then I remember what you had said to me—" she smiled sadly. "About when you were angry sometimes, frustrated with your work you'd go hop on a train and ride it hours. . . . Forgetting about everyone, everything else in the world. . . ."

"Where are you going with this!? Or are you just wasting my time!"

"Its what I did too," she said frantically, trying to regain his attention. "I was sixteen or seventeen when I started. After school I'd hop on a train, and just ride it for hours. I did it so much that I even bought a locker to keep my books in." Carmen smiled sadly up at him. "I only got through his abuse because you . . . and your advice. . . So right now I would listen to your own advice. Your angry. I get it—"

"_You get it!_? You get it!? You have no idea what rage I am feeling. And if you are suggesting I go, and ride a train, this very instant, while my daughter is out there—scared out of her mind—terrified—" Fornell's eyes began to swell with tears. " . . . then you truly are insane."

"Fornell," Carmen said, stretching her hand out to him. She squeezed his hand, but he pulled away. She attempted again and grabbed more forcefully and made sure she had his hand. Fornell felt something sharp dig into his hand.

She whispered, "Do you remember her birthday. My mother's birthday!?"

"Of course I do, and you know that," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Good. . . Then I suggest you go for a ride, clear your head, and maybe pick up her present."

Fornell shook his head and snatched his hand from her grasp. He looked at her. She was tear burden.

"I pity you. . . . You truly are insane."

Carmen watched him walk away from her; the only true family left in her life. She watched the last chance she had walk away. . . .

**~:.:~**

Fornell excited the jail hall and got into his car. He had waited until he was out of the building before opening his hand. Carmen had forced something into his hand. He looked down; a orange key laid in his hand.

**~:.:~**

Fornell was pacing back and forth through the empty bullpen, his hand circling the key in his jacket pocket. He was caught—conflicted between thoughts. FBI was frantically searching for his daughter; following leads and gathering information. And NCIS was trying to tract down the Russian dictionary for Carmen.

Fornell's mind was racing; thinking of horrible things that could be happening to his daughter. It struck pain in his heart as he thought of the possible of his daughter not returning to him. She was only thirteen. Why—who would take her.

He thought back to Carmen—and the key—and their conversation. He shook his head, refusing to even consider her advice—his advice. Yes, he had told her about his solution to his frustration. That he'd board a train, and ride in around until his mind was clear. . . . Fornell grinned his teeth, feeling ashamed as he contemplated the advice. How could he take a train ride while his daughter was out there. . . . And why in the hell did she ask whether or not he still knew her mothers birthday!? January 17, he remembered easily. And buying her a present!? Fornell was more confused than ever . . . maybe a train would wash away his frustration.

**~:.:~**

Fornell stepped onto the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive. He looked down at the ground, thinking about his conversation with Carmen._ . . Go for a ride, clear your head, and maybe pick up for her present._ He stroked the key between his fingers—he stopped his racing thoughts in his mind. He turned his head behind him, finding a set lockers in the wall. Fornell felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through him as he discovered the meaning behind the key.

He slowly ascended toward the lockers, taking the key from his pocket._ 115 . . . 116 . . . 117? _He stared at the locker before him.—Caren's birth date—_pick up her present!?_ As if time slowed half its speed, Fornell brought the key to it lock, the key fitting into the lock. He paused before turning the key—he felt this overwhelming sense of hope wash over him—was this going to help find his daughter. Then a feeling of despair struck in his heart . . . What if his assumption about the key was wrong and the key would not turn . . .

A wave of panic hit him—he gripped the key, turning it slowly.

_Click_

The lock sounded and Fornell was able to open the door. Inside, he had not expected to find what lie inside; a letter handwritten, addressed to him.

It was as if a car had hit Fornell, but subtlety. Fornell was suddenly bombarded with all these thoughts and theories—it hit him. _By gawd, Carmen you risky son-of-a-bitch. You've been planning this from the beginning. Everything you've done was to get yourself one step closer._ Fornell's head shot up._ By gawd, you've played us all—even me. . ._ Fornell could not help but smirk at the woman he knew. She was going to see this to the very end . . .

**~:.:~_  
_**

Dunt. Dunt. Daaah . . . an evil cliff hanger, I know. ;)  
So what was on the letter addressed to Fornell!? And does Carmen have a split-personally or not? Has she been faking this psychotic symptoms?And what's with this Russian dictionary!? And what is Carmen's end game? What is she trying to achieve? Threat # 23: I'll put you in a room with only a sheet of paper and a broken #2 pencil . . . ya that'll drive you up a tree . . . its one of biggest pet-peeves. When a lead pencil continues to break over and over, within seconds of each break. Grrr. So suicidal! ;)

. . .

;heys' and thanks for the awesome reviews. I am one away from a hundred reviews! I can't believe it. I never imagined I ever produce a story with that # of reviews. Its so surreal. Its great. So I wanna thank those that have EVER reviewed on my story since I published it. Thank you so much. Every single review makes me giddy like a school girl.


	15. Sugar and Spice

**~:.:~**

Pressing a cool palm against her sweaty forehead, Carmen sighed momentarily relishing in the relief it brought. But it was only for a few moments. Eyes half-closed and glistening with sweat, Carmen sprung forward and threw her legs over the edge of the cot. Pressing her elbows into her knees, she leaned over struggling with the thick and heavy air being sucked into her lungs; she was suffocating in this heat. She was desperate for a gulp a fresh cool air, but knew it would never come. This is what her 'kind' deserved, she thought, and laid back on the cot, flinching as the sweat-patched prison uniform made contact with her back. She was literally bathing in her own sweat.

Someone had ordered this discomfort. She had a good feeling who.

A day and a half had pasted since Carmen had seen Fornell. Since she had pleaded her case—since she had told him to go to the train station, and find her letter. . . . Carmen closed her eyes, feeling the possibility Fornell had ignored her pleas, and the possibility this was where she would be residing for the rest of her life. . . . Having a day and a half pass without a signal or sign from him made her worried beyond worry. Perhaps this was the end. Perhaps she had played her last trick.

It was not until Ducky appeared through the steel bars had Carmen thought her last chance had failed.

"Time is of the essences, my dear," he had said smiling through the gated bars. Carmen must have had a confused expression on her face for he added, "Come, come now, my dear. We must flee right away."

In a moment of haze and confusion, a clanging of keys could be heard, followed by the unlocking of the keyhole, and the creaking of the iron hinges; and there, stood Donald Mallard, warmly inviting her to 'come along' and 'quickly'.

In a few mere seconds Carmen's mind crazed over the possible theories upon why Ducky, the kind old man who she grown to appreciate and care for, was now standing, with a large grin on his face, in the opened doorway of her jail cell asking her to 'come along'. . . . That the ridiculously loyal servant of Leroy Jethro Gibbs was attempting to break her out of an impregnable prison. . . . She could not believe her eyes as she watched the old man twirl the keys in his hand, a smirk playing across his face.

"Don't worry my dear. All shall be explained in good-time. But right now, we must evade our fearless-leader."

A number of questions flooded her mind: Did he know? What did he know? How in the world did he get in here? More importantly, with the very keys attached the security guards belt loop.

She couldn't understand Ducky's reasoning for helping her escape—for the last time she had spoken with Ducky was yesterday. He had visited her and to her disappointment would not leave until she explained herself. Carmen wondered why he was standing in front of her now, because yesterday she had left him unanswered and furious. . . . Whether this was a trap or not, what had she to lose? Carmen smiled, and rose from the cot. She made her way passed him, but stopped beside him in the doorway of her cell. She tipped her head and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "My knight in shining armor."

Carmen could have sworn she saw a devilish smile form on his lips as he turned away. He began to head towards the exterior wall, but then realized the chains on her ankles and wrists would force her to move slowly, and that he would have to help move her along.

Ducky helped her limp along until they stopped on the exterior wall with an another gated door they needed to pass through. Locked, of course.

"I presume you have a plan?" Carmen had asked as Ducky left her side to access the control panel next to the door.

Ducky smiled, and ran a keycard over the control panel, and a few moments later the door buzzed open.

"Of course," he replied with smirk.

"Who would have thought: MD turned double O."

Ducky smiled, and aided her again. They passed through the door and an office besides it, but pulled away after she looked through the glass window and found a security guard, unconscious, and still wielding his weapon.

"Ducky, wait just a sec—"

Carmen pulled her arm away from the reluctant old man, and made her way into the office. Ducky nervously watched her take the gun from the guard's hostler and tuck it into her waistband.

"And what do you plan on doing with that?" he said as she rejoined him in the hallway, looking down at the gun wrapped up in her orange prison uniform.

Carmen paused, watching the man beside her. She still had no idea what he knew, or what he planned on doing with her once they made it out of there. She didn't know whether she could trust him, and until that moment, she needed to be careful and take _certain _precautions.

"You trust me, don't you?"

The tension mounted as Ducky fought to answer naturally as possible.

"Come, come, my dear," he said instead, and pointed the way. "You're chariot awaits."

Carmen nodded, and took the man's arm again. To Carmen's amazement, they smoothly dodged and evaded all security cameras and guards, agents and personnel, and made it into the park garage with ease. And after entering the parking garage, Ducky instructed Carmen to stay hidden until he made sure the coast was clear and that he would come pick her up.

Ducky left her side and made his way into his car, and pulled up along side the corner Carmen was hiding. Ducky jumped from the driver's seat and made his way over to her, and help her walk as quickly as possible to the passenger side.

He had opened the car door, and was bent at the waist to get Carmen feet into the car when Carmen saw something dark flickering out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head in time to see someone dodge behind a car. An inner panicked plagued Carmen, and she knew she had to make decision: get caught or flea no matter the expense.

"Sorry, Ducky," she whispered, and pulled the gun from the waist band of the uniform.

"Huh?—" he said, popping his head up from the shackles around her ankles.

Carmen curled her arm around his neck and jerk his body around, and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple.

"What are you doing!?" he cried, shocked at what she was doing—how she was spoiling their plan of escape.

"Shut up old man," she sneered, and brought the bud of the gun against his top of head; the hard blow knocking the sense from his mind. "Come out Gibbs or I kill him!"

Within the seconds, Gibbs emerged, gun raised, from between a set of cars.

"Put the gun down," he demanded, bristly coming up and stopping at the end of Ducky's car. Carmen remained with Ducky curled in her arm, her gun pressed against his head.

"You first. . . ."

Letting his eyes shift quickly to Ducky, Gibbs saw the old man holding his head; blood beginning to seep lightly down the side of his head. Seeing the man in pain, infuriated Gibbs.

"This is what's going to happen: I am going to get in this car and you're going to let me drive away. . . . Or you're going to be losing a very beloved friend, Gibbs."

**~:.:~**

_Twenty-four hours earlier . . . _

Fornell had gotten on a train.

He boarded one, and rode away all this racing thoughts. He just pressed his forehead against the window, his eyes unfocused and blurry as the scenery passed by, his fingers clenching around a crumpled letter.

His eyes closed as the words appeared in his mind.

_Fornell,_

_There was once a time you considered me your daughter. Please remember me as that little girl, whose cheeks were always the shade of crimson when you came over for dinner, and not the person I have come to be known as. As I would like to confess everything in this letter, __you of all people can understand the risks of doing so. I know I haven't given much of anything for you to trust me. But I compel you, if not for me, then for the sake of your daughter's life, trust in me. I'll do everything in my power to help you get her back, even if it means the end of me. Please, Fornell, trust me. You know what must be done. If you should consider, please be aware of the consequences that must be faced. _

_In your hands, _

_my fate_

Fornell swallowed attempting to sooth the dry lump in his throat.

His daughter was out there—he forced his eyes open, feeling his stomach cringe. He inhaled a large span of air, filling his lungs as full as possible. After a few moments, he exhaled trying to calm his shaking body; his hands shook, so he wrapped his fingers around the safety bar in front of him; his feet pulsed with an uncontrollable twitch.

This wasn't working, he thought as the train continued on its course. There was nothing that was going to ease his heart. . . . It pained him greatly to think there was nothing he could do to help his daughter—to ease her pain and smooth her fears. . . . o tell her everything was going to be alright. . . . To tell her he would never let anything hurt her. It pained him deeply to think what they might be doing to her. . . .

The words from the letter appeared in his mind, and he considered the desperate truth behind the words._ If I'd had the power, I'd do whatever it would take to get my daughter back. . . ._

Fornell forced his watery eyes open, and sprung to his feet. _I'll do whatever it takes. Even it means bending the rules. . . . _

**~:.:~**

Fornell stepped off the elevator, and made his way into the bull pen. He could sense four sets of eyes on him, watching his emotions and attitude—watching for signs if whether or not he was going to lose it. He paused in the center, stopping as the young woman flashed apologetic eyes at him.

"I am so sorry we have gotten you involved in all this," Ziva said as she came around her desk and stopped in front of him. "We'll find her."

Fornell forced a half-smile, and thanked her for her concern, as he did to both Tony and McGee when they offered their comforting words, but their words went right over his head, and he quickly refocused on his initial reason for coming to NCIS.

"Gibbs I need to talk to you," Fornell said stopping in front of Gibbs' desk. "Conference room or your office?"

Gibbs flashed his tired eyes at his friend, weighting certain reasons as to the urgency of his request. But after a few moments Gibbs nodded and followed him to the elevator.

"Something private you need to discuss?" Gibbs said to the man beside him as they waited for the elevator. A few moments later the elevator danged and opened its doors.

Fornell rolled his eyes, and stepped onto the elevator. Gibbs promptly joined him, and flipped the emergency switch as soon as the doors shut.

"What's up?"

"What's up? . . . What's up!? How can you be so calm!? My daughter is out there, scared out her mind. And here you are? Asking me, 'what's up.' What do you think, what's up?—"

"Fornell," he said slightly shocked with his friend instant temperament, and understood completely. "Right now isn't a time to get emotional—"

"Oh, oh, ohh," Fornell cooed. "I'm not emotional. I'm psychotic. I've separated my emotions and from my impulses . . . . I'm all impulses." He started pacing the small area in the elevator. "If I ever get my hands around the fucking sleez—"

"Fornell," Gibbs said slightly more direct. "Right now isn't a time to lose yourself. You need to have a clear mind for your daughter's sake. She's going to need you to be strong for her."

"_If,_ we find her . . . " he voice trailed off as his words began to sank in, quieting the shaking man.

"We _are_ going to find her; I promise you. This is both NCIS and FBI top priority right now. We'll find her _which and whatever way how. _You'll have her back in your arms. . . . but it's going to take time. We're dealing with two cases right now. . . . whether your daughter's kidnapping has any relation to Carmen's, I'm not for sure. Ducky's overlooking the facts, but we'll find her. . . . Beside I've already made Emily's Christmas present."

His little joke seemed to have calmed down the raging man. He breathed out heavily, and replied:

"I didn't mean to—"

"Yeah, I know." Gibbs cut him short, already aware of what he was going to say. Besides he wasn't good with apologies. "So other than some forced reassurance, what did ya want to talk about? There's obviously something else on your mind."

A flash of nerves crossed Fornell's face as Gibbs stare at him with pointed eyes, causing Fornell to gave him an odd look.

"I want to see her," he demanded, matching Gibbs' intense gaze.

"Absolutely not," Gibbs said quickly, having already been suspicious about this request.

Fornell winced slightly, angry boiling at Gibbs' bluntness.

"You know why," Gibbs added.

"I've already seen her."

"Yes, I'm already aware, especially 'cause you went behind my back—Fornell you know exactly why I don't want you to see her. . . .She's a manipulator. A liar. A cheat. She'll say whatever she has to gain your trust. Whatever. Even saying she could help save your daughter." Gibbs watched his friend's eyes glow with angry as he mentioned his daughter. Gibbs shook his head, and added, " Fornell you don't know her like I do—I've worked with her these past few months . . . I've watched her with a close eye. All this time, I've yet to know her the real her. I have no idea who or what identity she truly is." Gibbs stopped, sensing his words were going right over Fornell's head. He knew Fornell didn't care what he had to say about Carmen. Maybe a different approach, he thought.

"I'm sure you would do anything to get Emily back; whatever it takes. I know I'd do the same . . . but she'll do whatever it takes to escape. . . . You know why I don't you see her . . . I can see it in your eyes; you cared for her. I can tell you had some sort of relationship with her. I'm not sure what kind, but something strong enough to place your trust in her; to ask for help for your—"

"Gibbs," Fornell spat.

"No I think you need to hear this. . . . You know exactly why I don't want to see her. . . . I can see you cared for her. She'll use whatever advantage she has to gain your trust, especially of a vulnerable man in a crisis. And until you open up and tell me, I'll never know why or may be never come to understand. But there's a reason why we have her locked up, Fornell. Both Ducky and the evidence point to Carmen. And I'm not letting anyone see her until we have our case."

Fornell contemplated his words; he pressed his lips together forming a thin frown, suppressing the urge to argued with the man. He finally signed, and replied:

"Okay Gibbs. I surrender. We'll do this your way. I won't try n' see her again."

"Good," replied Gibbs, slightly nodding, though a brow raised at his friend. "It's for the best."

After a few moments of silence, Gibbs flipped the switch and the elevator jolted into motion. Although Fornell had surrender, all too easily for Gibbs expectations, Gibbs knew Fornell was lying. He knew his friend. He knew Fornell only agreed with him to get him off his back.

"Your right, your right . . . suppose I'm just a bit eery. I haven't slept, in well, hell I don't even know."

Gibbs didn't reply. He knew what was at stake. He knew Fornell would go to see Carmen anyway. Nothing he'd say would have any weight on his decision. All Gibbs had to do was to just stop him before he saw her.

**~:.:~**

Loud music suddenly engulfed Gibbs' ears as he power strolled through Abby's lab. Although it was something to expect, Gibbs could never get used to the pain that would ring in his eardrums. As he entered, two hands instinctively found their way to his ears, protecting his fragile hearing devices. It seemed to be louder than usual.

"Abbyyy!" he yelled, slamming a Ca-Paf onto the work-table behind her. His efforts of yelling proved useless against the music; Abby continued to do whatever she was doing at her computer, still unaware of his presence or voice.

"Abbyy!" he yelled again, but this time gave a light squeeze to her arm. It seemed to have gotten her attention, for she nearly jumped out of her socks; her head whipped in his direction accompanied with a little jolt in her body.

"Gibbs?" she said surprised, her voice higher than usual. She immediately grabbed the remote to her music player and turned it off.

"Something wrong Abs?"

Abby's eyes flashed with worry, but tried to hide it by turning back to her computer. She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, and replied:

"What makes you think that?"

"Just asking me that question sends a red flag. . . . And your music's louder than usual which can only mean you're trying to block out your thoughts . . . So I ask again, what's up?"

Abby sighed—she couldn't get anything passed him. Not even if he was blind-folded and deaf. She turned to him again, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

"I found out something I didn't like."

Gibbs half-smiled, replying with a shrug, "Well, hack, Abs, sometimes once in a while we find out things we don't—"

"No, Gibbs," Abby interrupted, her voice clam and considerate. "Something involving Carmen."

"Oh, that."

"Ya," she said sadly, and turned back to her computer. "Sometimes I hate where the evidence leads me."

"And where has it led you this time?"

Abby nodded, knowing what must be done. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulder.

"Alright. . . . The samples Tony and McGee brought me from the various flower shops around D.C—they all were a bust. None had any of the significant ingredients found in the sample I took from the rose found in the little girl's hair."

"So what did you found that upset you?"

Abby took another deep breath, and replied, "After I compared and cross-referenced all the soils I had to widen my search. I uploaded the significant and unique ingredients in the soil to the internet—I knew the chances of a result were slim, but none-the-less possible."

"So, whud-ja find? "

Abby sighed at his impatience. This wasn't easy for her say.

"Well, I got response back: there were certain particular aspects of the soil that are only found in indigence regions of the world. One in particular."

"Ya, so which country?" he asked hastily, though as nicely as he could.

Abby looked the floor. "Russia, Gibbs. The roses were planted in Russia."

"This is what upset you?" he asked, still not making sense of the girl's findings. "Why's Russia so bad?"

"Because Gibbs, don't see you—"

"Apparently not this days," he said referring to his earlier conversation with Carmen in his basement, although it went right over Abby's head.

Abby frowned, but continued, "The roses are from _Russia_. Carmen wants a dictionary from a _Russian _terrorist. And according to her personnel file, she can speak fluent Russian and has frequently visits Russia, once or twice a year. . . . Now don't you see? The evidence is leading me right to Carmen. . . ."

"Abs—"

"Gibbs what if she is a like a Russian spy or, or, or terrorist!?—" Abby inhaled sharply. "What if she's one of those children who were raised to kill then sent to America and wait until they were called upon . . . like that movie? Oh, what was it called!? That movie with Angelina Jolie? You know? That one—"

"Abby," Gibbs said, grabbing her forearms, of which had been waving in the air. It stopped Abby's trail off and focused her attention back on Gibbs.

"Leave the interpretating to me. . . . I know how you feel about Carmen, but—"

"I really liked her, Gibbs. . . . Carmen was someone who I thought I could truly talk with and not worry what she thought . . . I thought she was my friend."

Gibbs nodded, and kissed her on cheek. "I know Abs. She fooled us all."

**~:.:~**

Ziva, Tony, and McGee were sitting at their desks, discussing the progress of locating the Russian dictionary.

"I've never made so many phone calls in one day before. My fingers and ears are going to bleed."

"Oh, stop complaining Tony," Ziva said, and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not complaining, . . . just stating the facts." Tony held up his index finger, showing a red slice flesh. "I got a plastic-cut."

Ziva rolled her eyes again.

The tension between the two agents had not been resolved or lifted. The two of them had barely spoken to each other since raiding Carmen's apartment. They still shared opposite opinions about Carmen.

"Hey when you two stop bickering like an old married couple, come here." McGee's voice was serious. Ziva and Tony looked at each other, and walked around to McGee's desk.

"What did you found McGee?" Ziva said leaning closer to his computer screen.

"That's just the thing? Nothing."

"Nothing? Mc-Confused. I thought we talked about this? When—"

"Ya, yay," McGee spat, waving his hand his hand at Tony to shut him up. "So we presumed the dictionary was owned by the Russian terrorist because—"

"Because he was Russian, yes. So?" Tony said impatiently.

"Soooo, I think we were wrong."

"What makes you think that?" Ziva asked.

"I've been looking over Operation Praying Manis case files—"

"I thought there were none."

"Exactly, except one. Curiosity lead me to Carmen's mother, Caren Wilson and her record."

"What did you find?" Tony said, finally getting in on the conversation.

"Her record was loaded . . . with medals and special achievement awards. Then I noticed she was a linguist. She could speak five or six different languages fluently, including—"

"Russian." Ziva and Tony interrupted instantaneously.

"I think it's why we haven't been able to find out anything about this dictionary because we've been looking in the wrong place."

"She's been died twenty years, where would we go to locate her personal efforts, if they haven't already been discarded or claimed? . . . What?"

"You don't have to say it like that Tony?"

"What? I didn't know the woman."

"No, but you know her daughter. And until she is rightfully sentenced, guilty or _not-guilty_, at least pretend to have some feelings."

"What's this talk about feelings? You should be working."

The threesome looked up to find Gibbs walking around his desk.

"Finally. Someone with some common sense."

"DiNosso?"

"Yes Boss?"

"Shh."

"Right, boss."

Just then the elevators dinged and out came a group of FBI agents heading straight for the stairs.

"Boss?"

"M-TAC. Five minutes," Gibbs said, and quickly followed after the group of agents.

Ziva, Tony, and McGee all looked at each other, then quickly jumped up and raced after him.

**~:.:~**

"As of yet we've obtained no new leads on the whereabouts of Agent Fornell's daughter," said an agent from the Homeland agency; his upper body blown up twice his size on the projector screen in M-TAC. NCIS, along with a group from the FBI all stood listening the man on the screen.

"We know next to nothing on Emily's—"

"What exactly, _do_ you know, Agent . . ."

"Michaels," the agent replied.

"Right. Agent Michaels. Now what _can_ you tell us? Cause you haven't told us anything." Gibbs said, his shoulder's squaring at the big man, his eyes shooting daggers at the big man.

The agent squinted his eyes at Gibbs, and said, "Now just what the hell is that suppose mean?"

"You don't seem too convinced she was kidnapped at all."

"What the hell do you think you're doing here Gibbs? We're all on the same side," said Agent Michaels, his hands finding his hips.

"Check your file records—"

"Hacking into a federal agency is against the law—"

"Homeland security has done nothing to help this investigation. . . . Nothing, but the opposite. I don't think you investigating this case at all."

"Gibbs what the hell are you doing?"

Gibbs turned to the angry voice beside him; it was Fornell.

"They called us remember? They offered their help. Their resources. Their man power. So what the hell are you doing?"

"We don't have time for this. Cut it," said Agent Michaels, and he dissipated into a snow blizzard.

"Gibbs are you trying to sabotage my daughter's chances of survival!?"

Gibbs knew Fornell was emotional compromised, and anything that he said was out of fear for his daughter.

"Fornell there's a reason why Homeland security offered their services. . . And it wasn't to help find your daughter. They are trying to spy on our investiagte into Operation—"

"Gibbs I don't give a dam if they want trying infiltrate, terrorize, and blow up NCIS! All I care about is my daughter. We need all the help we can get. And it certainly isn't help my daughter when you put a target, not only on your back, but my daughter's."

With one last glare, Fornell walked out the M-TAC closely followed by the other FBI agents.

**~:.:~**

Fornell seated himself at the bar, ordering himself a strong drink. He focused his gaze on the numerous bottle of alcohol behind the bar. What was he doing here? Drinking? It was pitiful. He shouldn't be here, especially when his daughter was else where—

"Huh? What?" Fornell blinked away the glaze on his eyes, and focused in on the person nudging his elbow.

"I thought I might find you here—reasonable—the situation at hand would drive anyone to drink."

Fornell stared back at his old friend, Ducky.

"It's the closest bar from NCIS . . . Doc please— " Then it hit him. A whole scenario playing in his head. "Suppose you wouldn't mind one yourself. Here sit down. I have a favor to ask you."

**~:.:~**

_Twenty-four hours later . . . _

"God dam it Carmen! Enough of this! You end this now, or I will," Gibbs said strengthening his grip on the gun pointed at Carmen.

"Gibbs—we both know you're not going to shoot me."

Gibbs shook his head, "Let Ducky go and I promise to get you a life sentence instead of the chair."

"An another empty threat Gibbs."

Gibbs started walking towards her, his gun pointed at her head.

"As are _your_ threats," he hissed back.

An impish grin washed over Carmen's face. Without so much as a blink of her eye, she lowered her gun, aimed at the old man's leg, and pulled the trigger.

A horribly screech filled Gibbs' ears. He watched as Ducky fell to his knees, bleed seeping from his slacks onto the ground. Carmen bent down and locked her arm around his neck again and pulled the aching man to his feet, the pain amplifying as she forced him back on to his legs. With one smooth push, the doctor fell into the passenger seat, and Carmen slammed the door once he was fully inside.

Carmen smiled as the horror on Gibbs' face disappeared.

"You were saying?" She raised her gun at him, now. "I'll kill him Gibbs. You know I will. . . . It's your fault that man has a chuck of lead in his leg." Carmen started to back around the car, making her way into the drive seat.

"Carmen!" he screeched. "Don't do this. Let me help you."

"Believe me Gibbs, when I say: I've come too far to stop now. Nothing is going to stand in my way, not even this old man, who I've come to adore. It will be sad to see him go."

"Carmen I won't let you go," his voice coming softer.

"Yes you will."

After a few moments, Carmen lowered her gun. She watched him do nothing. She knew he wasn't going to stop her. She smiled, but her voice didn't match."Don't worry Gibbs. I'll take good care of him." It was almost sad, as if she was ensuring him that she would take good care of him.

Carmen watched Gibbs in the rear-view mirror, standing there, gun lowered, watching her drove away.

**~:.:~**

**Author's Notes:**

;Agh, sorry! I'm intentions were obviously not to update a month and half later. I'm really sorry. . . . But this chapter was giving me problems. Chapter 15 was being mean to me. . . . So? Thought you had Carmen pegged? May want to reconsider. And Ducky!? Poor Ducky. How could anyone do such a horribly thing to that lovely man? Oh, and one more thing: I may have rushed the editing on this one. I apologize for all the sp and grammar errors.

;Hey thanks to the people who reviewed! I love reading the people who are always really enthusiastic about their reviews. Warms my heart, every single one. Thank you my lovelies.


	16. Motive

**~:.:~**

He became aware . . . of the blinding light when he peeped his eyes open . . . of the dizziness within his head as he startled suddenly . . . of the pain in his leg . . . of the gauze wrapped around both his leg and head . . . of the backseat of a car he was lying in . . . of everything that had transpired at NCIS . . . of Gibbs . . . of Carmen . . . of being shot in the leg.

An unsettling feeling pulled him forward into a sitting position, his eyes fanatically surveying his surroundings. He was in a car . . . parked somewhere within a wooded area, silent and vacant. It looked to be like an old camp ground with scattered picnic tables and fire rings, with a circular clearing of trees and scrubs; dark grays and blues of the sky visible. His hand rose to his chest, whimpering as a sharp pain developed within his heart. He forced his breathing slower, trying to calm himself . . . he was in no immediate danger that he saw. He looked around again, his eyes coming over a blurred orange figure, sitting atop a picnic table, elbows on their knees, head bend in their hands.

"Carmen," he breathed.

Ducky managed to slide out the backseat, (immediacy noticing this was not his car) and open the door without too much pain from his leg. However he clenched his teeth together, pain shooting from it, as he stepped out from the car. He stood erect from the backseat, leaning heavily against the door, and propped himself up on his right leg making sure not to apply any unwanted pressure to his injured left. He managed to pivot on his right leg, readying himself to shut the door, but stopped as he spied a walking cane on the floor of the car. What are the odds, he thought, and snatched the cane in his hand.

He slowly made his way over the picnic table, of which occupied Carmen, facing away from him, deep in thought and utterly unaware of his approaching person. He noticed she no longer had the shackles around her wrists and ankles, and still wore the orange prison uniform. He came to the table and eased himself slowly down on the other side, not wanting to accidentally frighten Carmen, but instead stumbled into the seat. The sudden noise and motion must have really scared her, for she jumped from the table a few feet and flipped around, a look of sheer terror on her face. And that's when he noticed her sore and red eyes, her trembling lips, and her rapid breathing. She looked both mental and physically drained. Ducky had never seen so much emotion displayed on her face before. And it was almost shocking after what he had witnessed over the past few days of her psychotic demeanor.

Carmen relaxed only slightly as her sights came over the old man stumbling into the picnic table, struggling with his injured leg, but she couldn't help the trembling that proceeded after being scared to death. She noticed, through her frail nerves, the older man narrow his eyes on her, looking about her person with genuine concern and worry. She remained standing a few feet away from him, watching particularly for disgust or contempt or even hatred to show on his face, but when it never came, Carmen breathed out heavily and joined the man at the table.

Ducky watched her regain her composure after what he assumed was her realization of who had startled her, and followed her with his eyes as she joined him at the table. He had managed to slip his injured leg over the bench and under the table as she mimicked his position, though she could not meet his gaze. He watched her relax into the table and point her elbows into the wood, her hands clasping together in front her face as if to hide herself from him; her hands were still slightly shaking as she relaxed into the table—out of fear? Exhaustion? Sadness? Ducky deemed all possible as she continued to avoid his gaze, her eyes settling somewhere between her and himself on the wood surface.

Silence reigned over the two until Carmen finally spoke soft and defeated words:

"Wondering why I shot you?"

"No."

The bluntness of his answer finally brought her eyes to his, as he had intended. She looked a bit taken at his dismissal of her guilty conscious, but remained silent, wanting to hear his explanation.

"I know exactly why you had to. . .You were protecting me. Should Gibbs have learned I aided in your escape, well, you can imagine his wrath, my dear. Although," he contradicted, his voice becoming airy and humorous. "I did think you took a little too much pleasure in shooting me."

Carmen's eyes flickered away, gleaming with guilt and regret, her mouth forming into a tight line. She paused a thoughtful moment, her brows furrowing together. She was caught in a mix state of denial and confusion; her mind had registered his jab at humor, his person probably wanting nothing more than to lighten and alleviate the tension, however she frowned upon hearing it; she couldn't place the amusement in their predicament at all. She had shot the man for Christs sake! Although after a few disquieted moments, her eyes meet his eyes again, anxious and timid, and she spoke very softly and consciously:

"After all this time, . . . after everything that I have done. And everything that has been accused of me. And after shooting you only hours ago. . . . you've never doubted me? . . . Why?"

Her voice croaked on her last words as Ducky stared back with a solace heart.

"What is faith without doubt, my dear?" he refuted, his voice soft and kind. "It was a rather touching letter."

"Fornell found my letter?"

"Yes, and he told me everything . . . of the operation, of the coverup . . . and of your mother. No, my dear, I have never doubted you, . . . although—"

With the change in pitch of his voice, Carmen meet his eyes on the account of possible doubt.

"Where is my car?"

Carmen stared after him a moment, this time allowing herself to reaction correctly to his humor. A mischievous smirk inked across her lips as she stared back at slighted man in front of her, more apprehensive with each silent, passing second.

"Shot in the leg, and the first thing you think is your car?"

"Not just any car," he lightly chided. "A 1954 vintage_ Morgan_ roadster."

Ducky's face reflected hers, smiling fully as her teeth peaked through her lips, however fell when hers slowly formed into a frown, contemplation washing over her face; as if his question had momentarily taken her away from her thoughts—most likely her guilty about harming him—then reminded her all over again of it. The guilt wasn't necessary as he had already forgiven her of her trespasses against him.

"It's safely parked at the bus station," she began, her eyes avoiding his again. "I had to ditch it, as you said, it's a vintage car—easily detected and recognizable. . . . I had to find other transportation . . . I didn't exactly know _the plan_," she said referring to his plan of breaking her out.

"Yes, completely understandable—as long as it's from door-ding capability. . . . Now, Miss Wilson. You have me in the middle of nowhere. Utterly incapacitated—no witnesses—no interruptions. . . Now pray tell: who's the _real_ Carmen Wilson?"

His question seemed have caught her off guard completely, for she couldn't move her eyes away from his as he stared back authoritatively at her. And when she did not reply or perhaps she just didn't know _how_ to reply, he added, rather tryingly:

"I have, to a degree, scarified my beloved profession and career, and my even body for you, my dear. I believe it is at least my right to hear your story."

He watched a visible dry-swallow lump move down her throat as she thought about his words. Finally after a few moments of contemplative silence, she nodded her head and replied softly:

"Over the years of continuous lying and manipulating—I don't even know the the real Carmen anymore."

"Then start from the beginning . . . and we'll find her together."

"It's a very long story Ducky."

"Time is at our disposal, my dear," he sang with his hands waving about in the air, indicating nowhere Forrest and their current status as fugitives.

Carmen shifted her eyes away from him, sadness glazing them over as her memories surfaced.

"Okay," she breathed quietly. "Okay . . ."

"My entire career has been built up upon anger, revenge, and the desperate need for resolution. . . . I've tired to forget—to let go, but every time my mind wonders away from it, I get this overwhelming feeling of sadness—his kind-of emptiness, as if a part of me is missing and only can be complete again if only I revenge her. And so I knew I'd never be at peace without myself until my anger was put to rest . . . . And so ever since I turned seventeen, I've been plotting my revenge."

_"Honey, the marines aren't for some prissy little girl like you. Why don't you get on-and-out of here," said an older, but muscular man wearing a marine's uniform; Carmen's future recruiter.  
_

"He thought I was a joke, but," Carmen shook her head. "My anger was fueling my being. And I showed him just how prissy I was."

"What'd you do to him?"

"Fractured his wrist in three places and bruised his forehead."

"Arm lock?"

"Something like that."

_Seventeen year old Carmen smiled pleasantly, apparently accepting the recruiter's dismissal, and shook his out stretched hand. _

_"Thank you for your time—" _

_Carmen twisted their jointed hands, twisting his arm painfully, and walked around the desk guiding his arm around his back, and finally administrated the final twist and pushed his stomach into the desk. _

_"I'm sorry, you were saying?" _

"We've been pretty good friends since. . . "

Carmen sighed heavily and continued. "God Ducky I was young and naive to think I could revenge my mother's death. I had no connections, no leads, no theories. Just a really passionate conscious. . . . All I had to go by was the information my mother gave me when I was thirteen. . . . I didn't know where to begin exactly. I went into the medical division of the marines—like my mother. I followed her career path, also learning a few languages, particularity Russian. . . .For the last fourteen years I've been waiting . . . for a sign, or a clue." Her eyes suddenly flickered with a fire. "And finally after fourteen years of searching and waiting, I finally found what I was looking for. Unfortunately it was at the expense of two innocent lives. A mother and a daughter. . . .

"It's was when I first came to learn about the first double-homicides. NCIS's and Gibbs' investigation about the murder of a marine wife and child spread like wild fire around the bureaus. . . .there wasn't a person who didn't know about Miranda Malison and her six mouth old child. . . I didn't make the connection immediately. It wasn't until after the details of the investigate will release that I realized it was connected to my personal investigation. . . . Although I did make a note about of the murder being committed on day of my mother's 19th death anniversary—but I dismissed it as it only being a coincidence. And only after learning of the unusual happening of the child being wrapped in a _red_ blanket, of which the father had never seen before—did I realize it was deliberate."

"I knew it had been no coincidence of the date of the murder. And after I determined that, I knew I had to get myself onto Gibbs' team. . . . It was true of what Tony accused me of. I did personally request to be transferred specifically to Gibbs' team with the contriving motives of gaining knowledge and insight on his cases. . . . just as Tony had said and almost right after the first murder a year ago. In some respect Tony was right to question me, although with the wrong motives and intents. . . . But I was denied—a couple of times by my C.O. He said I was of more use at the current positioned I stationed at."

"During the duration of the year, two more double-homicides occurred. Jessica Harper and her six year old daughter were found at the local Navy Park. In the arms of the child was a red headed doll. And then Cecilia Victor and her nine year old daughter were found in their kitchen—they had been cutting red strawberries. . . . I grew restless. I couldn't handle it as I sat idly back, watching those innocent woman and children die. And finally after almost a year, my C.O tired of my constant asking and allowed me to apply to NCIS. . . . I'm sorry to say, but it was essentially you Ducky, who gave me this opportunity."

"If I had known—of your past—it would have changed everything," he said gravely, shifting uncomfortably about on the wooden bench.

"And now Caren Thomas," Carmen continued quietly, politely choosing to ignore this comment. "And her thirteen year old daughter . . . found dead _exactly_ a year after the first killing. . . . and my mother's—"

"Twenty death anniversary," he interrupted quickly, seeing the difficulty she was coming to have. "It was no coincidence. My god, he was—is taunting you."

"Yes," she breathed out softly. "And after I determined that I knew I had to get myself onto Gibbs' team. . . . Every step I've taken, has been one towards resolution—"

A ripple of thunder boomed overhead tearing Carmen and Ducky from their conversation. Immediately after that, it started to lightly shower, then all of a sudden down pour. Carmen dashed to Ducky, and aided him into the car. Once he was inside the passenger side, she came around the car and jumped into the driver's side. They decided going to Ducky's house for any he might need would be too risky, and decided to rent a cheap motel room somewhere in the outskirts of D.C.

"We have to make a little detour first," she had said, and pulled away from old camping grounds.

"What is this place?" asked Ducky as Carmen pulled the parking brake and unfastened her seat belt. Carmen had pulled down a long graveled lane hidden under thick shrubs and tree covers and at the end of the lane sat what appeared an abandoned cabin.

Carmen looked passed Ducky and out the passenger window, replying, "My safe house. I knew thing could get . . . complicated."

"Why did you not bring me here originally? Why pull the masquerade back there in the woods?"

Ducky watched Carmen curl her bottom lip into her mouth and look away, guilt again written all over her face. She sighed, and forced her eyes back his.

"I didn't know the plan—your plan. When you appeared in front of the gated bars—with the keys." She shook her head. "I didn't know what to think. I thought 'Ducky Mallard; ridiculously loyal servant to Leroy Jethro Gibbs—was attempting to spring me from prison.' " She smiled sadly and shrugged her shoulder. "A million thoughts flooded my mind—was it a trap? Or were you genuinely trying to help me. . . .I didn't know whether I could fully trust you, and until that moment, I needed to be careful and take certain precautions. . . And you were unconscious. I managed to stitch up you leg nicely and get us out of town—yet I still had no idea what you planned on doing with me once we made it out of there."

Through the course of her confession Carmen had shifted her eyes away, feeling too horrid and guilty to meet his gaze anymore. A few silence moments reigned after filling the air with a stiff tension.

"Do you regret?" she said, breaking the silence.

"What?"

Carmen thought the question's referral was obvious in its nature, but nevertheless replied: "Recommending me to Vance. If you hadn't, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't being risking your career, or more importantly, have a hole in your leg. And you wouldn't have had to lied to Gibbs."

"Sure, my dear," he said, his voice very condescending. "Rather, I could be at home dining alone or besides the fire place reading a book I've read a hundred times over, or maybe perhaps fixing a meal for one . . . and no closer to solving these horrid murders." His voice lighted, and praised her. "Your presence on Gibbs' team has been a God-send, whether you've realized it or not. You _will_ be the one to put the _real_ psychotic away."

"Thank you Ducky," she murmured softly, her voice beginning to choke. "I'll be right back."

Ducky watched her slipped out of the car and make a dash to the cabin; the raining still pouring down. . . . Carmen came back a few minutes later and threw two black duffel bags in the back seat. She said they were essentials things they might need, and pulled away from the cabin. They made their way to a cheap motel; a dusty and grimy little place on the outskirts of town. Carmen used a fake I.D., one she had had stake away encase of this very reason, and found their room at the end of the complex. Carmen checked and redressed Ducky's wounds, making sure to keep off infection. She apologized for not being able to take him to a hospital, but he waved her off saying he understood with the conditions they under. After settling in, Carmen ordered take out and they began where they had left off.

"So you were following Gibbs' investigation long before you came to NCIS. . . . That's explains the shoebox Gibbs found in your closet at your apartment. We originally had thought they were merely files you had copied during your time here, but now I can see, it was premature to have assumed that, correct?" he asked, and continued again when she could only nod as her mouth was full of Chinese food. "I don't want to assume incorrectly again, but you had documents that only existed in Abagail's hard drive. Did you hack into her system?"

"Just one of the skills I thought I may need, so I took some classes . . ."

"Classes?"

Carmen shrugged nonchalantly, and repeated, "classes. Underground and illegal classes."

"Awe, I see," he smirked, and took a bite of noodles.

"When my C.O denied my request to apply NCIS, I knew I couldn't live with myself. I knew I wouldn't be able to sit back and watch those innocent women and children die. So, yes; I hacked a forensics specialist's hard drive to gain access to all of the information pertaining, and only pertaining to the mother-child murders. . . From who I later discovered to be Miss Abagail Sciuto and she certainly hadn't made it easy for me."

Ducky smiled upon hearing the comment about his little lotus blossom, and replied, "That's my girl."

"So after that I followed Gibbs' investigate. I knew that case upside down, and out. Every detail."

Ducky drew a long breath as if to think back on a certain memory.

_"Why isn't she upstairs with my team!" Gibbs said looking at Ducky, his voice becoming shrill. Gibbs had noticed Carmen missing from the bull-pen, and instantly became angry and boiling with annoyance from her lack of respect. _

_"Well, you see, I was in need of some assistance. Mr. Palmer is—"_

_"I need her!" refuted Gibbs, interrupting Ducky.  
_

_"Jethro—"_

_"Ducky!"_

_"Boys!" mocked Carmen._

_The two men turned from each other to the woman across the room, her hands in the air having just scrubbed clean.  
_

_"Gibbs I offered my assistance to Dr. Mallard because I am not familiar with this case, considering I came to NCIS after these crimes had been committed. I thought Dr. Mallard could shed some light on the cases and pull me up to speed—while also assisting him, only until Mr. Palmer has recovered from his aliment."_

"You really have been playing us this whole time haven't you? You fooled everyone. . . . You fooled me and I had absolutely no idea." Ducky leaned back in his chair, flabbergasted. "And yet you specifically asked me to 'shed light' on the cases, but . . .why? You already knew everything there was to know."

Carmen frowned at the man as a humiliated expression fell over his face.

"You were something of a genius in my mind Ducky, . . . even specialized in mind games. I knew I needed your prospective and opinions on the case if I had any chance of moving forward."_  
_

Ducky inhaled, and shook his head, "No my dear, I believe you would have found a way with or without my help—" He paused, a look of realization struck on his face. "Is that why you befriended me? To only gain from my knowledge and expertise?"

"Of course not Ducky," she said quickly, knowing where his thoughts would lead. "I can see how you could come to that conclusion. I've lied and manipulated my way through NCIS, but my friendship with you has always been genuine. I thought of you like the father I never knew." Carmen looked away, obviously fighting back the tears. "It's why I confided in you, Ducky. You were the only one I trusted with my secret."

Ducky watched after her as she excused herself and closed the bathroom door behind her. He could tell his words had a profound effect on her. Although she had said she understood his reasons of doubting their friendship, she most certainly wasn't thinking that. He could see the hurt in her eyes as he doubted her, and it hurt him in return. He couldn't quite mentally or emotionally comprehend her last words. It was ironic—as she thought of him as a father, he thought of her as the daughter he never had. Oh, he thought, how had everything come to us.

After a few minutes Carmen returned, her eyes a little sore, and re-joined him at the small dining table in the corner. She grabbed her box Chinese food again, stiffed a bite before turning back to Ducky.

"You could have trusted him, you know? Gibbs. You weren't the only one to carry a burden such as yours."

She opened her mouth, but no words would come out—her thoughts wouldn't vocalize. She looked down at her food, then quickly looked up, smiling, and shook her head.

"I sure did get on his good side, didn't I? My first occurrence with the man—was spilling pipping hot coffee down his chest." She rolled her eyes. "Our "relationship" was condemned before I even stepped foot out of that wrecked elevator. So initial trust was out of the picture. And thereafter, I had done nothing to gain his respect or trust . . . or at least nothing in the ranks of Ziva's devotion. Although I admit there was a time I had considered going to Gibbs with the truth of my past and my future motives."

"When?"

Carmen sighed, "When I first arrived . . . After they had returned empty-handed, Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva. Its when I saw this raw, passionate angry inside of him—when he came back with nothing to show—that he had to admit to himself that he had failed. It was then I contemplated his trust."

"And what changed your mind?"

A flash of memories came to her mind: the bar, of which McGee and her had been getting to know each other, and then Gibbs walking in with his rude temper; the elevator on which occasion Gibbs pinned against the wall demanding the truth; and all the times he's insulted her ability and skills as an NCIS agent. Considering all those incidents—Carmen couldn't bring herself to trust a bitter man like him.

"He changed."

Ducky sighed, knowing their past afflictions, and knew there was probably no convincing her otherwise, however he didn't let her stubbornness blind the truth.

"Gibbs is one of the most loyal and trusting men I have ever met," he defended softly."Only of course after he decides to trust you himself."

"Him and I were strangers," she retorted quickly, knowing what his intents were to change her mind about him. "I couldn't trust him with my secret."

"If you trust me . . . you can still trust him.'

"It's too late for that now, Ducky . . . I'm in too deep—and there's no turning back. . . .With the way that everything has turned out," She shook her head. "I'm a fugitive on the run, Ducky. Who Gibbs has heard confess to shooting McGee and slashing Ziva's throat—I threatened to take away his family Ducky. And who Gibbs has seen shoot his friend in the leg. Any trust that man may or may not have had for me—is now gone. . . . And when I realized I was never going to get it, I made other arrangements for him."

Ducky's brows furrowed together, replying cautiously, "What do you mean, arrangements?"

A crack of lightening reigned over the sky and in the little grimy motel that temporarily housed Carmen and Ducky. The abrupt noise tore their attention to the window, and out to the storm that was blowing in. The sky was rapidly becoming dark and inviting for storm weather. They both realized night was upon them, and decided to get some sleep with the promise of resuming their conversation in the morning.

**~:.:~**

**Author's Notes:  
**

I'm so sorry! for updating so utterly and inexcusably late—although my only reasoning behind the late update was because my energies (you know, that magical writing power that propels and drives you into a story—and magically lights your flame) was focused on my new M*A*S*H fic. I'm so sorry! but I can say for sure! that the next chapter is done! but awaits editing (of which I suck at and am in desperate need of a beta reader. Any takers? I suppose the up-side would be, you'd get the next chapter before anyone else ;) If your interested, please send me a PM & we can discuss details) And the next chapter is a being a bit difficult so an update won't be as quick, but it's getting some major work done on it. Takes time.

So Carmen does have normal feelings!? Please leave me your thoughts about whether or not you thought she was really psychotic, or if you really knew all along it was just a ploy. Did I convince you well? I don't know—but please leave me your thoughts & thanks for reading! And thank you to all the reviews I got on the last chapter and all the favs. & alerts—you make my world go round ;)


	17. Rule Number 12

**Author's Note:** It's been a really long time since I gave a personal shout out to 'my peeps' So thank you **dg101, bored411, hippiechick2112, valy72 **(which was my first review in another language. So exciting!), and **SashaElizabeth **(a big shout out to you for reviewing every single one of my chapter in a single sitting. Love you so much). Thank you all for taking the time to review. And also to the countless people who have fav-ed/alerted the story through the years. It truly melts my heart with every single rev/fav/alert. Thank you so much!

On to the business. This is a very lengthy chapter with a lot of goodies, so pay close attention. Things are revealed. Trusts are re-evaluated. And plot twists like none before...Enjoy.

**~:.:~**

Gibbs lowered his gun as he watched Carmen drive away. He stood immobilize with an immense, yet calm sadness that enabled him to react or to think clearly. He had just let Carmen get away. He couldn't believe he had just let her go—escape—with the possible scenario of never seeing her again. Why did that thought sadden him? Why was he not billowing with anger or bursting with rage? Why was he so afflicted—his gut render defective and utterly useless in all aspects that concerned her.

A calm serenity overtook him as he continued to stare at the last visible spot Carmen had occupied, but it was broken as shouts from beyond his thoughts interrupted him, and he turned he find Tony, Ziva, and McGee running up to him, weapons drawn.

"Gibbs what's happened?" It was Ziva to speak first after a few moments of being too stunned to see their boss in such a trance state. "Where's Carmen?"

"Gone."

The threesomes' brows all furrowed together in confusion as Gibbs left it at that, and turned on his heels and walked away. They all exchanged odd glances before following after him.

**~:.:~**

Gibbs stepped off the elevator, and made his way into the bull pen, where apparently Abby and Fornell were waiting for him.

"Gibbs," sang Abby as he rounded his desk and sat down. "Have you seen Ducky? He had samples he needed me to test, but when I went down, you know, there—" Abby began to fidget about the word 'coroner'. "Ducky wasn't there and his office was locked."

Gibbs sighed, realizing he was going to have to speak the truth sooner or later, although he preferred it be later. But he shifted his eyes to McGee, who had just sat down at his desk.

"McGee bring up the surveillance cameras from the parking garage. The one pointed at the entrance and exit."

"Okay," he said, his voice a mixture of confusion and curiosity. His fingers rapped quickly on the keyboard and within a few moments he was directing everyone's attention to the monitor.

"Gibbs what does this have to do with Ducky?" Abbey asked eying the unusually behaved Gibbs. When he didn't answer, her eyes shifted to Ziva and Tony, of who had that same knowing and bewildered look on their faces, too. Apparently they were aware of their bosses' strange behavior too, but didn't know why.

"Rewind the feed to about—" he looked down at his watch. "Fifteen minutes ago."

"Alright."

The TV monitor appeared in a snowing haze as it rewound—and then Ducky's vintage car came to appeared on the monitor. "Stop there, McGee—alright pause it."

McGee paused it, and four sets of eyes fell on Gibbs, all wondering what was going on.

"Ziva you asked where Carmen is—and Abby, you asked where Ducky is . . . McGee."

McGee tapped his space bar and everyone turned to the monitor, watching with interest as Ducky appeared from his car and walked around it to only disappear out of the right side of the screen, then reappear again, but with an orange blab besides him.

Abbey, along with the rest gasped as they realized it was Carmen, with a gun tucked in her waist band, forcing Ducky to help her into his car. Then they watched horrified as she suddenly wrapped her arm his throat and neck, and used the bud of her gun against his head.

Abbey gasped again, her hands clasping over her mouth in disbelief.

They watched as Carmen aimed her gun at something or someone off screen for a moment, then saw Gibbs appeared in the corner the screen, his gun drawn and raised at Carmen. It was a silent recording, and could not understand what they were saying until suddenly—and sound was not needed to understand Carmen's actions next:

Carmen smiled wickedly and lower her gun. Ducky fell in his knees, red beginning to seep through his slacks and down his legs.

Upon seeing this, Abbey gasped and turned around in the awaiting arms of Gibbs, of who wrapped them around her tightly to shield and protect her from the awful sight of Ducky getting shot. But although he held her, his eyes never left the screen as Carmen lowered her gun and disappeared into the car, and drove away—awhile he watched himself stand there—frozen and unable to move or think.

McGee cut the feed, and now all eyes were on Gibbs again, all with one thing on their mind.

"You let her get away?" It was Tony; his voice quiet and sad—but not a sadness for Carmen's escape, but for Gibbs' inability of action. Something Tony had never seen before and seriously contemplated the force behind it. _Why did he let her go?_

Again, Gibbs didn't answer, but held tighter the now sobbing and incoherent woman in his arms. "She shot him, Gibbs. She—she shot Ducky—how could she!?"

Gibbs shifted his eyes to Fornell, who was staring at the floor vacantly—sadly as if his last chance to find his daughter had vanished.

Everyone in the bullpen remained silent—unable to move passed the horrible image of Ducky being shot.

"If that not prove enough for you, Ziva, then I don't know what is!?"

Tony abruptly stood, his chair knocking back into the filing cabinet behind him, and grabbed his jacket and pack and left the bull pen with haste—with anger and with guilt.

Ziva lowered her head in her hands as tears quietly came to her eyes, and after a few moments, she stood too, angry and guilty and fled the bull pen.

After a few minutes, Gibbs motioned for McGee to come over to Abby and coax her back down to lab. It left Gibbs and Fornell alone in the bull pen. They continued to remain silent until Fornell stood in front of Gibbs desk.

Fornell stared down at his friend.

"What is your gut telling you?"

". . . I don't know."

**~:.:~ **

Carmen awoke the next morning to find Ducky missing from the other bed. An immediate surge of panic propelled her from beneath the covers, frantically kicking them away as she jumped from the bed and across the room to grab the black duffel bag of essentials she had brought with. She began stuffing her things back into the bag, and was gliding across the room to the door in a matter of seconds. She wretched open to the door to flee, but stopped upon meeting a confused and shocked Ducky standing with the key frozen in the air.

"Ducky!?" she breathed out hoarsely. "I thought—"

"I had fled?" he said with the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice. When Carmen lowered her head and nodded, Ducky sighed and glided passed her in the door way. "I bought some us breakfast from the little cafe diner around the corner. I hope you like your eggs scrambled."

Carmen remained standing by the door, an anchor of a heavy heart keeping her immobile.

"Ducky," she breathed quietly, an obvious guilt in her voice. "I'm so sorry."

"My dear I thought we had trust!?" he snapped quickly.

"We do—it's just I thought—"

"I had escaped and was going to authorities to turn you over!? . . . Am I correct to assume that much?" He waited for her nod before he continued. "And then what would you done? Flee? To where, my dear, were you exactly planning on going?"

Carmen brows furrowed in together in confusion and then defensively as the older man narrowed his eyes on her.

"You can't possible blame me for naturally reacting in an unnatural circumstance."

"No I should think trust should override any kind of irrationally thinking."

"Ducky—"

"Carmen—no, you're going to listen to me," he said over her persistent babbling. He sighed exhaustively, and tossed the two styrofoam containers of food onto the little dinning room table in the corner. He gripped his cane firmly in his hand, and limped to his side of the bed, and sat down, nonchalantly waving her over to sit on the bed opposite of him.

Her bottom lip distinctively curled in her mouth, and Carmen bit down upon hearing his detest of disappointment in her—her soon-to-come detest of disappointment. She watched him relax into the bed, his weight relieved from his injured leg. And Carmen's guilt was em-flamed all over again as he groaned with a mixture of pain and relief, but swallowed her guilt, and complied to his demand. Carmen sat across from him, and waited like a little girl who got caught with her hand in a jar—it was degrading.

"If your first instinct of finding me gone was to flee because you thought I was going to police—that means you do not hold the same trust in me that I hold for you. Which makes me very sad and disappointed. After everything I have done—I don''t know what else I can do to prove my loyalty—"

"You needn't do anymore Ducky." Carmen let her words settle in the air before continuing. "I am sorry—truly sorry I reacted in that way—but you must at least consider it from my perspective Ducky. . . . Now whatever you may think now, know I have the most immense tenderness towards you. I'd rather go to prison than betrayal your trust—melodramatic and cliche, yes, but I think you see my point. . . . Ducky I reacted in that way because I didn't now how else to react. I have been running my entire life—it's just code inbreed in my brain now. It's just natural for me. And I am truly sorry for having deceived you in that manner. . . . Can you forgive me, Ducky?"

Carmen's hope of forgiveness diminished slightly more and more as the older man's face remained still, his eyes staring at her without expression, like he was giving her words a repeat in his mind—but then he chuckled with a little impish smirk with a glint in his eye that made Carmen aware of his intention of his own deceit.

"I think we've found her," was all he relayed, and made his back to the food on the dinning table. He had just witnessed Carmen's raw and unguarded true self.

Carmen didn't initially understand his comment, but after a few moments of thinking back on yesterday's conversations, his comment stuck understatement. And after a few moments to think about it, Carmen joined him at the table and eat the breakfast he bought from the diner.

After they were finish eating, Carmen excused herself to take a quick shower before they continued their discussion they had left last night. She stepped underneath the spray of warm water and all was forgotten as she let her mind close.

After a short while, Carmen appeared from the bathroom to find Ducky leaning against the headboard and watching a show on the television. He flipped it off as soon as he saw her enter into the room, her hair wet and shiny.

"Now that you must feel refreshed—shall we continue our discussion?"

Carmen sadly nodded, and sat cross-legged on her bed. "Where shall I start?"

After several moments, Ducky's grave face peered up at Carmen. "What arrangement had you made for Gibbs?"

Carmen predicted this would be the first topic of discussion, especially remembering the look on Ducky's face yesterday evening when they decided to 'call it quits' for the night; he appeared eager to learn of the truth, then disappointed to end close the discussion. And Carmen knew he would ask about Gibbs, but in truth Carmen had no desire to 'go down that path' but the face of Ducky forced the words out of her mouth.

Carmen sighed, and said, "Everything I have done—and have said has been calculated and quantified. Every conversation, every miniscule interaction, every fr—"

"Friendship? has been calculated, has it?" Ducky interrupted, his brows raised and his voice humorous and airy; the benefit to further humiliate Carmen about the intention of her relationship with him. After letting the conversation stiffen enough, he finally smiled, and let her continue.

"I was going to say fraternization, but I suppose friendship is all the same. . . . Anyways," she continued, and inhaled deeply. "Everything I have done as been to serve a particular purpose."

"And what was Gibbs' part in your grand scheme of things?"

Carmen sighed again, knowing this was going to be difficult to answer his question with a direct response. "Gibbs . . . was my queen on the battlefield."

"Hmm, a chess analogy? I hear," he sang, becoming slightly enthused.

"He was essential my most important and powerful-est piece in the game. He had the ability to move in any direction with no limit and was only bound to himself."

"Yes, and I recall you referring to Tony as a pond," he quickly added. "Don't let me forget to ask about that. . . . But do continue on."

Carmen smiled sadly, but continued. "I knew, just after meeting him—after seeing that passionately enraged man that he'd be the one to make this _all_ happen for me. That he'd be the one able to open the door of salvation for me. . . . And so I used his weakness—his enraged passion to my advantage and made him the vocal point of my strategy."

"And what did that entail for him exactly?" asked Ducky after watching Carmen cast her eyes away from his, shame and guilt written across her entire face.

"Do you recall the item I requested from Gibbs?" she began, her voice quiet and small. Ducky recognized her deflection away from his question with another question. "The Russian dictionary?"

"Yes I remember."

"As the intelligent man you are, you're probably already aware of the _correct _theory as to why I need to."

Ducky chuckled lightly, "Yes, I believe I am. Although the others believe it's owner was the Russian terrorist, however, . . . I was not so quick to that conclusion. . . . It belonged to your mother, didn't it?" Ducky waited for Carmen to nod before pressing on. "But what does that have to do with Gibbs and your arrangement for him?"

"Everything, Ducky," she said, finally meeting his gaze once again. "Gibbs was the _only_ person who could get that book for me. . . . But I knew he wouldn't be able to get that book if he just asked for it. No, I knew under normal circumstances they weren't just going to hand over the book to him."

"Whose _they_? and what do you mean 'under normal circumstances' " Ducky asked leaning slightly forward, his curiosity heightened by this new and unknown opponent.

"I discovered the dictionary to be locked away in a secret archive underneath the Homeland Security Headquarters. . . . Extreme measures and precautions were taken to ensure that book's secrecy . . . and I knew _only_ under _extreme _circumstances was I ever going to see that book. . . . So that's were Gibbs comes in."

"So Gibbs was your queen—your piece to control? How did you manage that? Thinking back, I don't ever recall you _ever_ having any of the slightest control over him—but rather the opposite, I remember. You were under his thumb."

Carmen smiled sadly again at his words—the truth in them sorely real. "Are you sure about that Ducky?—appearances can sometimes be misleading."

"Why are you so guilt-stricken?" he interjected instead. "As we speak, your plan is still in the works—they are trying to locate the dictionary for you. Doesn't that make you happy?"

Carmen forced a smile on her lip, and said, "It should, shouldn't it? . . . "

Ducky frowned, his head titling to the side slightly. "You're growing weary and anxious as you near your lifetime aspiration, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ducky I am," she stated dryly. "Once I get my hands on that dictionary I'll be able to find _him_ and finally end this nightmare. . . ."

"You've never spoken about what you plan on doing once you've confronted him."

Carmen sighed, and shook her head, her voice becoming heated. "I don't now, I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Alright, alright," he said putting his hands in the air, a gesture of surrender. "We don't have to talk about it now, but if not now? When? You are going to have to know—because _that _time is going to arrive, my dear and you're going to _have_ to know."

"Okay," Ducky continued. "Back to my original inquire. . . . How have you being controlling Gibbs? It seemed rather the opposite way from my perspective."

"Which is exactly the way I wanted it—under Gibbs' radar and undetectable. . . . I needed his fury, not his submission. I needed him angry, not his sympathy. I needed him, . . . essentially so enraged, so utterly engorged in his own madness that he would blind himself from reality—from rational thinking. . . . Which I believe I officially accomplished in the interrogation room when he nearly heaved me across the room. . . ." Carmen sighed again. "So passionate he'd comply to any request I made of him."

Ducky's mind ignited a whole chain of thinking—processing the words of her explanation. It was all coming to gather, except one thing was nagging at him.

"But he didn't become _that_ angry at you over night . . . What did you do to him—" Ducky's eyes grew wide at his sudden realization. His mind traveled to when Carmen first arrived at NCIS and her upset with Tony and Gibbs. . . . _She purposely pitied the two men against each other igniting her spark of Gibbs madness, _he thought as his eyes meet Carmen's again.

"You really, truly have been planning this from the very beginning, haven't you? And Tony was also part of your game—your pond as you referred to it."

Carmen sadly nodded.

"I immediately knew what made Gibbs tick—his family. This dysfunctional family of NCIS. . . . I knew that's where I'd make the biggest splash and knew I could inflict the most damage."

"You pitied the two men against each." Ducky remarked, suddenly unable to meet her eyes anymore. "You destroyed their relationship for your—"

"Yes, my _own_ gains! And I am truly sorry for that." She retorted heatedly, then inhaled slowly, calming herself. She felt extremely guilty for what she has done, but she had to forward with her plan.

"The only way to get Gibbs angry enough was to involve Tony—and get him just as angry. And yes! I had to pit them against each other. And yes! at the expense of their relationship. . . . And rule number twelve was going to take me where I needed to go:

_Gibbs looked between Tony and Carmen for a while, before saying, "I'm sorry did I miss something? . . . Is there something going on between you two?" He said, his anger being directed completely toward Carmen._

_"What? No! Of course!" _

_"Oh come on sweetie," Tony said._

_Carmen's mouth dropped. "What?"_

_"Carmen, we can't keep lying!"_

_"Lying about what!" Gibbs said, his voice raising. _

_"Gibbs—" Carmen pleaded._

_"If there is something going on," Gibbs interrupted, staring intensely at Carmen. "Then I need to know about!"_

_Carmen stopped and looked to Gibbs. __**Why was he so mad at me and not Tony?**_

_"Gibbs, I—there—"_

_"Carmen," Tony said standing up and walking over to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist. He leaned in, close to her ear, so only she could hear. "Pay back is a bitch."_

_"Carmen and I are in a relationship, aren't we sweetie?" Tony said informing Gibbs._

_Carmen stopped and gave Tony a bad look. He only smirked._

_. . . ._

_Gibbs punched the button inside the elevator once Tony had managed to crawl himself onto it. The elevator came to sudden halt in the middle of the shaft, bringing the emergency lights on, and the room into silence. Gibbs leaned against the safety bar, tolerably waiting for Tony to regain his compose._

_"Tony," Gibbs asked softly. "What is rule number twelve?"_

_"Never date a coworker," Tony answered obediently_

_"And are you doing just that? breaking my rules?"_

_"I wouldn't say breaking," Tony pleaded. " . . . more like bending . . . " Gibbs didn't want to play games anymore._

_"Tony," Gibbs said obviously fighting himself from choking the answer out of him. "Are you in a relationship with Carmen Wilson?"_

_"Relationship is a funny word," Tony laughed awkwardly. "more like . . . " Tony couldn't think of a word to describe what was between him and Carmen. "Rivalry."_

_"DiNozzo answer my question! Are you in a relationship with Carmen Wilson?"_

_"Why does it matter!" he shot back. Gibbs took a step back at Tony's sudden out burst. "It doesn't matter. If it's love it's love. Who are you to tell who I can and can't date." By this time Gibbs was standing on the other side of the elevator. "You were with Jenny, . . . a coworker—your partner. You loved her, we all knew it."_

_Gibbs features soften and he thought carefully about his next words. "Your right about one thing, DiNozzo. I was in love with Jenny, but I knew we could never be together because I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if anything ever happened. But who am I," he mocked. "To tell a grown man who he can and can't love. A coworker none-the-less." He paused and sadly looked at Tony. "But when the time comes to make that decision who to protect and not protect; it will tear at you everyday of your life. And it will never let you forget it. If Carmen and you are in love . . . let it be. It's your choice."_

_Tony watched Gibbs stare at the floor, disappointed? Guilty? Ashamed? Tony watched Gibbs hit the button and walk off the elevator without saying another word. Gibbs was only trying to watch his back and Tony betrayed him. And for what? To get back at Carmen, Ziva, and Abby? It wasn't worth Gibbs' guidance, his friendship.  
_

_. . . _

_"I am still not convinced Carmen is behind this," Ziva said to no one specific._

_"What more proof do you need? It is no coincidence that she had requested to transfer to NCIS the day of the first killing. And then, show up the day, we chased down the guy."_

_"That is not enough to convince me or a jury, Tony. Why are you so determined to see her executed?"_

_Tony clenched down on his jaw._

_"Its personal, isn't it. . . . You never got over that blackmail thing, didn't you."_

_"She ruined my relationship with Gibbs."_

_"And how, exactly did she do that?"_

_"I don't have to explain myself to you."_

_"No, but you will have to, to Gibbs."_

_. . . _

"I am truly sorry for what I created between them, . . . but their relationship will mend eventually."

"You can only hope," chided Ducky, then sighed. "I still can't believe that all was . . . calculated. . . . Everything?"

"Everything," she assured him. "Abbey's sleepover, Gibb's relapse in trust for me, Tony's betrayal . . . well actually the whole black mail thing wasn't apart of my plan, but it worked for me and even better than I hoped for. And then Tony's and Gibbs' falling-out. . . .I had everything down to a T."

"All that work to just to get Gibb's mad!?"

"No, not just mad. . . . Mad is something you can get over—forgive easily. No I needed his anger skin deep—in the heart if he was going to be useful to me. . . . And over time, over the months I've been here, it's been building up, just waiting to explode . . . and I think we witnessed that in the interrogation room. A little out-of-character for our Gibbs to loose his temper like that, huh?"

If the tone set in the room wasn't so tense, Ducky might have agreed and had a good chuckle, but the unnerving news about Gibbs' and Tony's relationship was the direct result of Carmen's doing was a little upsetting.

"I studied that man," she continued. "Learned that love and hate resided on either side of a very thin line. I used his jealous, which turned into guilt, which turned into love—or as you referred to it he 'confused guilt and the yearn for forgiveness as love' . . . and although he was plagued with uncertainty about me . . . he still let me go. . . . And I saw something in Gibbs' eye—in the moment he lowered his weapon and let me escape—something that told me he believed me, and with or without me was going to retrieve that dictionary. He too, knows the reasons why I desire that book. He wants that Russian just as much as I do."

Ducky exhaled a deep span of air, letting his breathe lingering in the air before pressing forward. "There are still holes in your explanations I can't quite make sense of. . . . You were willingly to take the blame for all those murders? . . . for revenge? And what of McGee? He was shoot with a red bullet. And Ziva, her throat slashed? was that you and for your purpose?"

"Contrary to what I said, I was not the one to inflict harm upon McGee or Ziva. It was the Russian who did it. Remember the note I found in that little girl's diary? Well, he is having his fun."

"But you confessed, it was you who said had assaulted McGee and Ziva."

"Yes, I did, but at which time, Gibbs wasn't as nearly as compulsive as I needed him. And knowing you threaten that man's family—there's no saying sorry. I did it directly for the result of Gibbs' angry. That man, now, will do anything, anything to get his hands on that son-of-a-bitch."

At the mention of such a vigor reference, Ducky rubbed his head and bandage, and sighed, "I think that's enough information to digest for one sitting. Let's take a short break so I can rest my head."

Carmen's heart filled with guilt again and frowned as she watched Ducky slide back into the bed and rolled over facing away from her.

**~:.:~ **

The bullpen was crowded with vast amounts of various agencies: NCIS, FBI, and even Homeland Security, and even the local Police Department. All working together and maximizing their efforts to find Emily Fornell. Although Gibbs pissed off Homeland Security with his wild accusations that they were only there to keep an eye on the investigate (which Gibbs still believes), but Fornell insisted that every available hand be put to use—spy or not.

"Gibbs I think I located the Russian dictionary. . . ." McGee hollered but very quietly over his computer, his eyes never shifting from the screen. He waited until Gibbs was by his side to continuing talking hushed and Gibbs made a note of his quiet tone and bent closer to McGee.

"What do ya find, McGee?" whispered Gibbs.

McGee cast a weary glance around the crowded bull pen before relaying: "I've been back tracking some old case files Homeland Security had. At first glance they looked like ordinary case files but—" McGee popped a button dramatically, which brought up a digital copy of a case file.

Gibbs scanned the paper quickly, trying to find the significance McGee was pointing out. His eyes came to the bottom of the page—on the signature with looping curves: _Caren Wilson_.

"Carmen's mother. . . . "Gibbs said to himself.

"What's so strange about this is everything pertaining Caren Wilson or the Praying Manis Operation was destroyed, but somehow this one particular case file remains."

"Where did you find it?" asked Gibbs, leaning even closer to McGee, by which earned some off-cast glances.

"In the shoe box you find with in Carmen's apartment," replied McGee quietly. "And I believe that some of the markings are coded. . . . Gibbs I think Caren Wilson left this behind to be found—and in such way not to arouse the attention of Homeland Security. She left a trail of bread crumbs for only _Carmen_ to follow. I think she'll show us how to find her dictionary—of which I except to be coded too. But with what—I don't know. "

Gibbs sighed, "Good work, McGee. . . . Break her code and find where that dictionary's located.

**~:.:~**

"What happened in Gibbs' basement—after you had escaped Ziva and we raided your apartment." Ducky asked after a short nap and quick shower. They sat around the table again, continuing their discussion once more.

Carmen sighed, and replied, "I knew after I had left NCIS—after Tony had made those accusations against me right after McGee got shot—I knew I couldn't risk going back to my apartment to retrieve my shoe box of information. I knew everything scrape of paper by heart, . . . but I knew Gibbs—or Tony would raid my apartment. I knew he'd find the box and discover the mission name of Operation Praying Mantis. . . . And that he'd figure out everything. Which he did and _more_. He actually gave me the break-through in the case. . . . He lead me right to—"

"Agent Fornell."

"Right." She sighed again.

_"But up until recently, did I think you were just a "friend of the family"—who really liked my mother's cooking, a lot." She frowned. "But it turns out you were her co-worker, well, actually her boss, on the operation." She smiled and shook her head. "All this time—I never put the two-and-two together. You were F.B.I, she was a marine . . . All this time—all my effort and work I've put in—and all I had to do was pay, old, Mister Fornell a visit."_

_Fornell was lost. Effort? Her work? What was she talking about?_

_"I've dedicated my entire life's work for the finding of answers. . . . I've manipulated. Lied. And apparently the answers have been dangling right in front of my eyes. . . . You. Tobias. Will set me free. "_

"So Agent Fornell and your mum?"

"Ya," she said with a lopsided smile. "Who would have known . . . and that's why I went to Gibbs' house that night. I knew he had information about the operation that I needed . . . but I knew he wasn't going to just tell me voluntarily."

"What'd you do to him?" Ducky asked with the slightest hint of a smirk. He was obvious he was trying not to smile.

"Nothing," Carmen defended with her own smirk. "He gave me that information on his own accord."

"You didn't, let's say, drug him?"

"Gibbs said he wasn't going to let me escape . . . so I had to have an exit strategy. So I laced his bourbon with a harmless little sedative."

Ducky chuckled, "You have no idea how pissed off Gibbs was when he woke up."

"I'd only want to imagine. . . . So that's where I got him to unknowingly divulge information leading me to Fornell, which I then realized Fornell had also been apart of my mother's operation."

"Carmen," interrupted Ducky suddenly. "Is that _all _that happened in the basement with Gibbs?"

Carmen didn't think it was relevant to include the good-bye kiss she gave to Gibbs on his cheek. And she knew Ducky would never rest until he analyze every motive and underlining reason as to why she kissed him. She didn't want to go down that road.

"Yes," she answered with a short response.

Ducky sighed, neither convinced or satisfied with her response, but didn't push it any further. "So, after you got what you wanted from Gibbs, you went to see Fornell."

"Ya," she smiled, her eyes becoming fixed on something in the background. It was as if she was remembering the happy times she had had with her mother and Fornell. "But our meeting was cut short by Tony. I didn't have a chance to ask Fornell about the operation or my mother. I didn't have time to convince him of the truth or of my innocence. . . . But I had a back-up plan just in case. I left a letter in my old train-station locker revealing my plead of innocence."

"So getting caught this time was not apart of the plan."

"No, I admit I was in big trouble with this one," she smiled sadly, then frowned. "Fornell was my last chance."

Ducky sighed, "Poor Fornell. I can't even imagine the agony he must be in with his daughter being kidnapped. . . . "Ducky snapped his head to Carmen. "Oh my god, you didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

All the humor and amusement had left Ducky's voice. His brows knitted together with a sudden anger as he stared at Carmen, of who remained silent and just stared back at him with quiet eyes.

"Tell me you didn't!?"

"I _did_ what I must."

**~:.:~**

**Author's Note:** Evil cliffhanger. Sorry. My original intention was not to end this chapter there, but I have a certain quota—a certain length I like to keep the chapter flowing. But, I am so excited to write the next chapter! Finally, this next chapter will reflect my _romance _genre...can you guess who will it involve? Yes, **spoiler alert!** Carmen and Gibbs...finally, don't you think? I think they have had enough sexual tension build-up and foreplay for one story. And sorry for any spelling or grammar errors (I'm getting better).

Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing.


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